


Petals of the Past

by tiffthom



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Death, F/M, Friendship, Marriage, Romance, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 09:56:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10332059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiffthom/pseuds/tiffthom
Summary: Byakuya Kuchiki is burdened by his past, and he considers the vows he made to his late wife, Hisana, to be eternal. However, broken promises made to another woman long before he married go unaddressed. When he's encouraged to consider remarrying to produce an heir, he has to face and come to terms with that past, and the woman he left behind.





	1. Honor in Burdens

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! This fic is focused on Byakuya Kuchiki's relationship with an original character. It takes place two months after Ichigo rescues Rukia from being executed. It is canon-compliant in that it will follow the events of Bleach with tweaks of my own to put more focus on this pairing. My long-term goal is to take this fic through every arc until Bleach's end. 
> 
> Tite Kubo, Shōnen Jump, VIZ, etc. lay claim to Bleach in some legal form or another. Not I.
> 
> In this fic, I will employ the original language here and there. For ex.: reiatsu - spiritual pressure, shunpo - flash-step, Senbonzakura - Byakuya's zanpakutō or soul cutter, etc. These words will be italicized. I may add original concepts in Japanese here and there but they will be explained in-text.

_There is honor in burdens._  

Fifty years was a long time to miss someone. Byakuya sometimes envied the humans. Their lives slipped away like sand meaning their time to mourn also had a sure and expected end. His virtually interminable existence almost ensured that the pain would linger on, tempting him to madness, but he’d keep cool. With much work, he reined in his temper during his youth. He wouldn’t stain the Kuchiki name by unraveling, but sometimes he wondered if he could _bear it._ He ached from memories of the past; the weighty responsibility predestined to rest on his shoulders, broken promises made to his dear parents and beloved grandfather, and the recurring recollection of broken promises made to  _her_.

Sometimes it was all too much to be distracted by and it seemed like only a matter of time before the impenetrable coldness he wrapped himself in shattered like glass. Calling grief, the relentless companion that threatened to overtake him, a distraction was too polite honestly. It was more like a pool of thick black ink, and the clock steadily ticked loudly, urging him to just be done with it and drown. Nothing was going to change. They were all gone and though many things in life could be righted or overturned, death was not one of them.

And so he occupied himself with almost too much to do. When the busyness of life reached a calm, the consumption began. It never failed. At first, there was just a flash zipping across his mind in an instant; the face of someone long gone. Sometimes it was his father, his grandfather. Other times it was an open plum blossom, then a frail hand, a spitting image, and a line of gravestones.

Death was just as painful in the Soul Society as it was in the World of the Living.

But it had been fifty years. Surely, grief would loosen its grip but it only became worse. He sighed as he realized he had spilled ink onto his Intake reports. Sixth Company was getting new members soon and the training season would begin. Such a hectic time required him to be at his best. He would never admit he feared that the best had come and left. He was relieved of such thoughts by a boisterous outburst outside the door of his office.

“I told you he’s busy! Can’t you hear, you idiot?”

His tatted  _fukutaicho_  was as loud as ever. How did the powers that be think he could work with such a man? Nevertheless, he appreciated Renji for his loyalty. He just didn’t always know where the man’s head was. He wondered who Renji was trying to keep at bay outside his door. He placed a hand, cramped from writing, on his forehead and closed his eyes. The noise didn’t stop. _The noise still didn’t stop._

“Young man, you’d do well to mind your tone and know your place.” Byakuya heard another voice say clearly.

His frustration was sapped when he realized who it was. His heartrate quickened but he maintained his calm and started for the door. _Intake and now this._ At least he’d be busy enough soon to hopefully forget the conversation he dreaded every few months. He opened the door to see Renji on bended knee, face flushed with embarrassment and nervousness from the potential consequences of his actions.

“Captain, I-I apologize. I did not know who this man was. He just – He walked right past the front office so I—”

Byakuya closed his eyes and waited for Renji to realize he needed to be quiet. When there was silence, he sighed audibly.

“I’m sorry, Captain. I’ll take my leave.”

Renji eased out of the room without a sound and as soon as he was back in the main office, he bolted for the door, and flash-stepped to Tenth Company’s barracks. He needed Rangiku’s carefree attitude and a stiff drink to forget about looking like a complete dumbass in front of his Captain  _again_.

Byakuya looked at the older man standing with him outside of his office and noticed his other on-looking subordinates. He cleared his throat.

“All of you, I assume, are well aware of what time of year it is. With that being said, I am curious as to why you are all standing around here. Certainly, there is work to be done.”

In an instant, papers were shuffling and chairs were sliding against the wooden floor and the office completely cleared out.

“Now then, Mamuda-san, please come in.”

The man followed Byakuya into his office and took a seat in front of his desk. Byakuya poured himself and Mamuda a cup of tea and sat down. The man had a look of amusement on his face. It wasn’t often that he was privy to such a display of buffoonery.

“My, my these are the people the Soul Society has entrusted our peace and safety to? A bunch of idiots they are if you ask me.” Mamuda smiled into his cup.

Byakuya was in no mood for his mischievousness and small talk. There was only one reason the head of the Kuchiki clan’s Advisory Board would pay him a visit. He usually just doled out orders masked as suggestions from his lavish estate located on the clan’s grounds, and wasn’t seen. He had served the family for more than a millennium and was well aware of all of Byakuya’s shortcomings.

“Jirimi Mamuda, state your business and be gone. You’ve authored enough discord amongst my squad today with barely a word.”

Mamuda still smiled. The head of the Kuchikis was still young. Though Byakuya had traded his adolescent outrage for the semblance of serenity, that’s all it was; a mere front that Mamuda would always see through.

“Come now, my Lord. You know why I’m here. Please fulfill your duty to this clan and produce an heir as soon as possible. Though my Lord is still young and obviously virile in battle and in commanding Sixth Company, it’s time we used that virility for things that actually matter. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. It was true that he needed an heir. The Kuchiki name would die with him and that wasn’t an option nor did he want it to be. He believed that he and Hisana would have many children. He glanced at the picture of her on his desk. Her eyes were gentle and her countenance was sickly. Even before her illness proved life-threatening, she’d already been robbed of her ability to conceive. Mamuda took the picture frame and grimaced. Byakuya felt heat flushing his face. Rage he thought he’d long forgotten twisted his features.

“Kindly place that back where—”

“’Still hung up on this street rat, huh, my Lord? It’s disgraceful,” Mamuda spat.

“You will hold your tongue unless—”

“Unless what? You’ll further disgrace your ancestors by threatening me? Your behavior is despicable. May his soul rest, but I wonder what on earth Sir Ginrei was thinking being so lax with Sōjun. If your father had another son, I might not have to deal with you and your insolence. You are weak and growing weaker every fifty years it seems. Marrying that woman, adopting her sister, carrying on with that orange-haired  _ryoka_. What is wrong with you? Have you lost your pride?” 

 _Have I lost my pride?_  

Shamed pierced Byakuya’s heart. His grandfather never had an unkind word of admonition to say to him, but he could see the worry in Ginrei’s eyes. After his father, Sōjun, was killed in battle, Ginrei believed it best to intensify Byakuya’s grooming so that he’d one day assume the place as head of the clan. He recognized and heavily lauded Byakuya’s abilities early on, but he was worried. He loved his grandson but he feared that he wouldn’t quite be up to the task of such responsibility. 

_What did I do to assuage his concerns?_

“A disappointment is all you have been, Byakuya. Wouldn’t you like to make amends for the damage you’ve caused this clan?”

As much as he loathed Mamuda, he was right. For a lifetime, he’d ignored the advisor’s nagging about remarrying and having children. He thought eventually, Mamuda would just die. It wasn’t like he could be forced to do anything anyway as the Kuchiki head, but still, advisors were just as respected in the nobility, and the other clans were already abuzz about his unwillingness to observe reason and remarry. At the very least, it was time he truly faced the way he had gone outside of custom, and the current state of his family’s legacy. There was no heir to carry on his pride and his grandfather’s precious vision. It was time to move forward and put off regret.  _Could he?_  He bowed his head solemnly, sighing, accepting his position in the grand scheme of fate. Mamuda smiled, lips nearly curling up to his ears.

“Good. I will reach out to the other clans and find you a bride.”


	2. The Things I Should Have Said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of my original characters will be introduced. Sakura Tsukōji is the Captain of the Seventh Division of the Gotei 13 in place of Sajin Komamura who does not exist in this story. She is a noblewoman and daughter of the Tsukōji clan, one of the Four Great Noble Families. She is a childhood friend of Byakuya's and they have not spoken in 50 years despite belonging to great clans and the Gotei.
> 
> Tsekō Tsukōji is Sakura's father. He is the head of the clan. 
> 
> Flashbacks, techniques, and things, in the original Japanese, from the Bleach manga such as Seireitei and Gotei will be italicized.

  _Can I finally say all of the things I should have said?_  

Intake season had finally arrived and for the first time ever, Captain Sakura Tsukōji of Seventh Company was frustrated. The  _Gotei_  13 historically granted captains the right to create subdivisions within their squads and though Sakura esteemed her position as Director of the Department of Weapons Creation, Armory Dispatch, and Battle Tactics highly, she was especially fond of her role as President of the _Shinigami_ Academy. It was an office passed down to each captain of Seventh Company by the Captain Commander, no different than captains of Second Company usually taking command of the Stealth Force.

Each semester her brain was flooded with ideas of how best to engage the academy’s new students. It seemed each batch comprised pupils more fearsome and less interested in proving themselves academically than the last. They were always looking for a fight, and due to Eleventh Company’s brutish way of selecting its captain, she found herself with more youngsters coming in thinking they were able to take down a captain and garner an overnight promotion. It was annoying, but interesting. She loved proving to them how inexperienced they were and humbling them. Those types would ironically and usually end up becoming the best _shinigami_.

Sakura beat a pen against her desk as if part of some ritual to induce brilliant ideas. Nothing came. This semester, she had to employ fresh ideas and lessons. Always wanting to outdo herself, she leaned back for a moment of relaxation. Her head was starting to hurt.

There was no need to worry. She repeated this to herself a few times before it began to sink in. This semester was going to be just as successful as every other. As she rested, a feeling she tried to forget lulled her down memory lane. Being the daughter of one of the Four Great Noble Families meant constant scrutiny and living under the misconception that she merely became a Captain because her father gifted the office to her upon his retirement. She tried not to care, but knowing people waited for her failure wasn’t a simple thing to ignore.

* * *

_“You have absolutely nothing to worry about, Sakura. Those who matter know how hard you’ve worked so enough of this doubt. You will enter the Shinigami Academy, pass all of your courses with excellent grades, and be assigned to Seventh Company,” he said. His words consumed the mist of nervous tears that threatened her eyes._

_“Byakuya, but what if—”_

_“What if you become a Captain just like your father one day, and I like my grandfather? What if we get married and there are two Captain Kuchikis in the Gotei 13? That would surely cause quite a bit of confusion, would it not?”_

_Byakuya laughed. If she knew the day would come when she wouldn’t hear it again, she would have bottled the sweet sound of his joy. In his eyes was all of the reassurance she’d ever need. As long as he believed in her, she felt like she’d achieve what awaited behind the veil of time._  

 _“You dummy.”_

_She shook her head, but was quickly stunned by the feeling of his arms around her and the gentleness of the rise and fall of his chest against hers. He was the only man that would ever have her heart.  
_

* * *

The foolishness of youth was a flame that took too long to burn out.

“Sakura, you idiot. That was ages ago. Why dredge it up now?”

She grabbed a stack of papers and continued her work. Her father had already come by and threatened to disown her if she spent another night working in her office so she needed to complete as much as possible before leaving for home. It had been almost two months since she arrived in time to have dinner with him.

* * *

After finishing his report of how many new recruits Sixth Company needed, Byakuya decided to deliver the report personally. He had to acknowledge the anxiety mounting inside of him. He was betrothed to marry Sakura Tsukōji at a young age, but it was never on record. It was an unspoken understanding between their families. His grandfather, and Sakura’s father, Tsekō, were best friends and decided there was no better way to stabilize their clans than by blending them.

Byakuya and Sakura were practically inseparable until the responsibilities of adulthood called both their names. Sakura enrolled in the _Shinigami_ Academy to one day succeed her father, and Byakuya was outfitted with guidance for heading the Kuchiki clan. She had planned to enroll along with Byakuya, but didn’t feel or think she had to put her ambitions on hold for him, and fate had other plans anyway. He slowly lifted responsibilities from Ginrei’s shoulders, and five years later, he met and married Hisana.

His decision to marry a resident from the  _Rukongai_  came as a shock to both the Kuchikis and the Tsukōjis, and Byakuya, under all the scrutiny that he could bear, severed ties with Sakura even though talks of the two of them marrying each other had long since ceased. He just couldn’t face her after asking for Hisana’s hand. It was easier to just move on though the break didn’t feel as clean as he wanted it to be. The two of them had been left to design their lives however they chose within reason, but their parents were almost certain that they would find each other again as adults and inevitably become one. At first, he hated disappointing everyone. The sour looks of the Kuchiki servants that came after he married Hisana reminded him of his promise to Sakura daily, but with such a wide stretch of time between them, he naturally found happiness with someone else.

Mamuda’s insistence left a rancid taste in his mouth. Byakuya had vowed to marry and be faithful to Hisana, and even so long after her death, he felt crippled and as if he would betray her memory by remarrying.

_“Wouldn’t you like to make amends for the damage you’ve caused this clan?”_

His thoughts carried him far enough back into the past that he failed to notice the head of the Tsukōji clan passing him by.

“There must be quite a bit on your mind, my boy. An inch closer and you would have knocked me over.” Tsekō Tsukōji laughed. It was a deep bellow from the pit of his stomach that made stressful things seem like walks in the park.

Byakuya felt a resounding sensation of embarrassment. He hadn’t seen the man in years, but Tsekō was smiling as if they’d only parted ways a moment ago. Byakuya fell to his knees in reverence. Technically they were equals but Tsekō was much older and Byakuya still respected the highly esteemed relationship he had with Ginrei. He was practically an uncle to his father, Sōjun.

“My Lord Tsukōji, forgive me, sir.” Byakuya apologized sincerely. “You are looking quite well.”

Byakuya was so formal now. His formality revived Tsekō’s laughter. He recalled the days Byakuya used to give the lady head of the Shihōins a tongue lashing, touting his destiny as the strongest and most competent of the Kuchikis. Ginrei would be proud to see how well Byakuya had led the clan, but no doubt, he would miss seeing a bit of his grandson’s fire and passion. When Byakuya finally tamed his temper, he strayed too far to the other side of the spectrum and abandoned the ability to enjoy life outside of duty. On the outside, he’d changed enough to assist the misconception of the nobility as a stifling prison.

“It is just fine, Byakuya. You are looking well yourself, son. ’Wonderful to see you. It has been a while, right? I am almost unable to believe how much you resemble your father.”

Byakuya was honored.

“Thank you, sir. What brings you to the barracks? I do not believe you have come by in a long time.”

Tsekō could feel something troubling Byakuya and since it was rare for him to visit the barracks he figured he would take full advantage of the trip.

“Walk with me, son. Let’s chat a while.”

Byakuya welcomed the distraction. The two of them traversed the  _Seireitei_  and Byakuya took in wonders he’d never taken the time to notice before. Tsekō had a way of illuminating things that were hidden in plain sight. It was relaxing to hear all of his observations. 

“You seem at ease now.” Tsekō noticed Byakuya’s slightly looser shoulders. The sun was about to set so they stopped on the bridge just outside of the  _Seireitei’s_  west gate.

“You have my thanks,” Byakuya returned.

“Earlier you asked me why I was here. Well, I usually have no reason to come here. Genryūsai would much rather come to the manor to chat and glean the four corners of my tea leaf garden. He drinks green tea in overwhelming quantity. But yes, I specifically came to have an audience with my daughter. Sakura is taking this year’s Intake to heart like never before and she’s been working herself to death; leaving home before breakfast and missing dinner. I know that she is an adult but she is also the only child that I have who is still at home. Can you blame an old man for wanting to treasure every moment I have left with her?”

Byakuya’s heart flipped backwards. He and Tsekō had business here and there over the years but a part of him wondered if he also blamed him for marrying Hisana.

“You know what I’ve gathered, Byakuya?” It didn’t take long for Byakuya to stiffen again. “You think too much. You carry too great a burden even though you are not alone. So many people care about you. You would feel immensely better if you just talked to Sakura. I am sure of it. She is not the monster the battlefield knows her as, but you are aware of that.”

Byakuya was afraid of her reaction. He told himself that he feared nothing and had the masses convinced, but looking back even though he knew he hadn’t moved forward made him feel paralyzed. What’s more is he’d compounded the awkwardness between him and Sakura with each passing day by either handling things regarding their respective squads impersonally, or simply avoiding her. He’d made his decisions, but living with them had been the hard part.

Odd enough, he had mustered up the resolve to finally face her in some small way by walking his Intake report over to her office in hopes of seeing her. It would be their first authentic interaction in a lifetime. He choked the scroll in his hands while never faltering from presenting a collected front, but Tsekō was old enough to know better.

“In truth, sir, I do not know if she would receive me. I --," Byakuya paused, "I have not handled things in the best way with her. So much time elapsed.” Admitting it tasted as bitter as he thought it would.

Tsekō shook his head. He’d always viewed Byakuya as the son he never had. His five sons, though much beloved, valued letting loose too often and flat-out shirked the notion of military life. It had been challenging for Tsekō to make the eldest get serious about taking over the clan someday. They all preferred acting outside the restrictions of the nobility, and though they were all happily married and fathers, Tsekō still worried about some of their hobbies. His only dutiful offspring had been Sakura. Her marriage to Byakuya offered a glimmer of hope in the form of their own children. Surely, they would take after their parents’ propensity for poise as well as their disdain for bad habits. Tsekō believed a well-tempered medium between duty and dreams was necessary to lead a clan. Byakuya had qualities he admired in spades, but sometimes the urge to strike some sense across his head to help him see there was more to life than duty did arise. Byakuya often allowed things to weigh him down.

“I know my daughter. She thinks nothing but wonderful things of you, Byakuya. Do not underestimate her.”

Byakuya sighed, finding that near impossible to accept.

“Honestly,” Tsekō continued, “I think you need a friend right now. I would love to discuss whatever is troubling you but do you not think that now is a good time to break the ice with her? You may regret wasting this chance. Remember that even we _shinigami_ run out of time.”

He patted Byakuya on the back and left. Byakuya brandished a weak smile as Tsekō’s presence faded, trying to absorb the truth in his words. Time. It was either imperfect or running out.

* * *

_“Byakuyaaaaaa! I thought we weren’t going to use flash-step, you cheater!”_

_There was only one bag of spicy, dried edamame left from their haul at the confectioner’s, and they agreed to a race back to the Tsukōji manor to see who would get it._

_“We never shook on it, Sakura. You only assumed I agreed to those terms,” Byakuya said triumphantly._

_She rolled her eyes. He walked back to where he’d flash-stepped away from her to gain the lead and win the race. She was panting from shock and fatigue. He held out his hand._

_“Cough it up. I am the victor.” A wide grin spread across his face._

_She threw the bag at him and attempted to march off, but he reached for her. When she spun around, her eyes were heavy with tears. She snatched her hand away and wiped her eyes._

_“Sakura, I – I did not mean to make you cry. Honestly, it is just edamame.” On the outside, he teased her, but her tears had weakened him._

_“You idiot! It is not about that! We had a deal! Why can’t you just keep your promises?”_

_She couldn’t stop the tears from gushing out and falling in fat drops down her face. The defeat of having him see her that way hurt more than losing the race. She went into shunpo and disappeared before Byakuya could ask her to wait. His heart sank to the soles of his feet.  
_

* * *

That last inquiry rang in his ears like a song that had played out. Reality called him back, but not quickly enough.

_“Why can’t you just keep your promises?”_

“I do not know,” Byakuya sighed.

He finally made his way to Seventh Company’s barracks and stood outside the front door of the Captain’s quarters. He raised a hand to knock on the door but decided against it. He placed the scroll in the mailbox and left for home. Today was enough.

* * *

Sakura watched the clock and if she didn’t leave soon she’d miss dinner. Her father’s warning sent a chill trickling down her spine.

“He really would disown me over missing dinner. I know he would.” She stretched and packed her things.

She was far from a child but she and Tsekō had an arrangement. Being the youngest and only girl of six children meant she occupied a special place in his heart and he didn’t stand for anything getting in the way of that. She supposed it was alright. His love was the only consistent thing she knew. She flipped the light switch down and left the office. On her way out, she noticed a scroll hanging out of the mailbox.

“At least someone is taking Intake seriously. It will likely be another two weeks before I get all of these reports in.”

She opened the scroll and traced her hand over the beautiful calligraphy.

“Byakuya,” she sighed.

She rejected the sadness creeping into her heart and placed the scroll back in the mailbox.


	3. The Carefree Petal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another OC - Ayano Kuramoto, Sakura's vice-captain. He'll only pop up from time to time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shihakushō: Garment of Dead Souls  
> Seireitei: Court of Pure Souls  
> ryoka: Traveling Evil(s)  
> Shinigami: Soul Reaper  
> haori: kimono-like jacket, worn over a kosode, a basic Japanese robe for both men and women doubling as an undergarment and overgarment. Typically, the captain’s robe in Bleach.  
> reiatsu: spiritual pressure  
> Rukongai: Wandering Soul City; “Rukon District,” English

A week had passed since Byakuya’s last interaction with his persistent senior advisor, and the captain of Sixth Company suffered mixed emotions. Though remarrying seemed daunting and conflicted with the promises he still kept to his late wife, he slowly acclimated to the prospect of becoming a father. A little bundle of life that maybe compared to him in physical appearance and strength made his pride swell. He recalled wonderful moments that he’d shared with his father and grandfather and felt his heart soften towards the possibility of bequeathing a fraction of such unconditional love to his own offspring, but it wasn’t simple. He needed a wife, yes, but he wanted to _desire_ a wife.

He finally admitted it a few nights after Mamuda’s harsh advice. Cherry blossom petals from his favorite tree, just outside of his study, fell gently. The moon was full and generous. He often gazed at the moon with longing and the orb never failed to share its fullness. It centered him and recalled his focus back to important things. He was not fond of his predicament but of all the things he valued in life, he cherished the vow he swore upon his parents’ graves. He would never again dishonor the Kuchiki name and his failure to leave an heir to carry on his clan could not be more dishonorable. The idea of his family dying out left him feeling cold. He’d allowed his guilt and loneliness to cloud his judgment for too long, but he had to admit he doubted himself. As he pondered his situation _,_ with perfect timing, rich memories of his childhood comforted him. _Would he be as great of a father as his own had been?_ A carefree petal danced in the breeze before landing inside of the breast pocket of his _shihakushō_.

Becoming a father would give him joy, but would being a husband? The lock on his heart felt ironclad. He’d always shunned the idea of being merely the other member of a marriage or the male needed simply to produce children. He didn’t want to be a part of an arrangement. He wanted to be with someone who needed him and he wanted to need her just as much. Contrary to what many thought of him, his shoulders felt the strain of burden. Carrying it alone for so long was difficult. Even Hisana burdened him. He was happy to fulfill her desires but she was never his equal. He loved her, but he never _needed_ her. There was too much they didn’t understand about each other and time did not lend itself to their union. A pang of guilt assaulted him. None of it was her fault. They were just _different._

Other aspects of marriage, the particulars involving producing his heir, concerned him as well. He’d long forgotten the arousing touch of a woman, and how to return that intimacy. What if he just didn’t know how to be a man in that way anymore? He’d barely adjusted to being a _brother_ to Rukia after welcoming her into the family as his sister decades ago. How was he going to welcome a woman into his bedchamber? This is what he didn’t like about the possibility of marrying again. The doubt he experienced made him sick of himself.

The latter part of the week welcomed an appreciated but exhausting distraction in the form of Ichigo Kurosaki. The captain commander called him and Kisuke Urahara to Soul Society for special instructions and wartime preparations, and of course, Ichigo was spending his stay at the Kuchiki manor. Rukia struggled with finding the perfect time to ask her brother if they could entertain the living boy but never got around to it. On the day Ichigo arrived, after he had concluded his meeting with Yamamoto and made his rounds visiting friends around the _Seireitei_ , Rukia brought him home with her. Before it dawned on Byakuya, he was having breakfast with the young man for weeks on end. He might have tolerated his casual, rent-free tenant if not for the _noise._ He wanted to strangle Ichigo and Rukia for their constant bickering.

At first, he wondered how the bond between them had become so strong but after observing them, even while arguing, there was one undeniable fact; they were each other’s match. Byakuya prayed it was just platonic but there were too many obvious indications that they were more than friends. He didn’t even think _they_ realized how they were. Having them around was a nice surprise though he’d never admit it. They brought life to the large, serene estate and distracted him from his doubts. Still, watching them interact left him with an aching heart. They were equals; Rukia and Kurosaki. They spoke a language only they understood. Sometimes Byakuya would notice the quick smiles they exchanged, and their eyes always said more than he could comprehend. It made him wonder if true companionship would ever be his.

However, without fail, he was always snatched from his wistful reverie by the deadly force of frustration, annoyance, and anger. _Blistering anger_. He knew that if Ichigo and his disrespectful mouth didn’t remove themselves from his home, sooner or later, he would kill the young strawberry. Honestly, how many times was he going to ask to be addressed as Captain Kuchiki? According to Ichigo, Byakuya wasn’t his captain so there was no point addressing him as such. The nobleman brushed off the cheeky back sass but now, as he finished up his calligraphy practice, an activity he could usually savor in peace, girl and boy were at it again, arguing over what the cooks should prepare for breakfast. _His_ cooks. The tired captain sighed. _Two more weeks_ , he thought. He was almost to the point of counting down the seconds until his home would be rid of a certain occupant.

“We had that yesterday, Rukia! Sheesh! Yuzu cooks whatever you want when you visit so why can’t I have at least one thing that I want?”

Ichigo crossed his arms in obstinacy. He was sick of Rukia’s “all about me” complex.

 _‘It’s all about neither of you actually’,_ Byakuya thought as he made a broad stroke against paper with his brush. His eyebrow began to twitch furiously from the sensation that their stomping feet caused. He was under the impression that there was an understanding between him and his sister that she could virtually do as she pleased as long as it didn’t directly and negatively affect him. He conceded in his battle with her angsty teenaged partner, and the foundation of Soul Society had been demolished. Rukia was free and he adopted a less stringent method of caring for her. All he wanted was to never again experience the utter chaos that tagged along with her new friend. Unfortunately, now, he didn’t need a hell butterfly bearing news that a dingy little _ryoka_ was running amok. He could experience it at home. _Joy._

“Damn it, Ichigo, it’s just breakfast! Stop complaining so much. You’re getting free room and board and you’re _complaining_?”

Rukia started to walk away from him. The spry, stand-in _shinigami_ flash stepped so that he was in front of her, blocking her path. They had been doing this dance for weeks now and she still bogarted the breakfast menu. It made Ichigo wonder where she got her stubbornness from but he remembered the stoic head of household. How were they _not_ blood relatives?

“You’re completely missing the point, Rukia. The _point_ is whenever you’re at _my_ house, you get whatever _you_ want. _I_ just want a goddamned rolled omelet, and you’re acting like I’m a dictator.”

She rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. Ichigo was just at a disadvantage. Her brother couldn’t stand him so he was never going to get what he wanted at her house. It couldn’t be helped that the Kurosakis adored her and catered to all of her needs.

“You are free to go to Squad Eleven’s barracks and stay there if you’d prefer. I hear there’s someone _dying_ to see you.”

Rukia smirked and stuck her tongue out at him. Ichigo felt a cold sweat coming on. There was no way in Soul Society nor hell that he would ask to be a guest of Kenpachi Zaraki’s. News had already made it to him that the bloodthirsty captain was ravaging the _Seireitei_ in search of him. The boy fell to the floor and bowed dramatically.

“No, no, no. Please not that. It doesn’t matter what we have for breakfast. We can have whatever you want, my diminutive death goddess.”

Rukia smiled triumphantly and Byakuya gagged. They were lucky they couldn’t see how much they nauseated him. If looks could kill… Rukia had made an absolute fool of the orange headache. He loved his little sister but began to think he’d spoiled her rotten. She had Ichigo right where she wanted him and he almost felt sorry for the brat. He was impressed by Kurosaki’s vocabulary and employment of alliteration though. _It must be the Shakespeare she said he likes._

Their breakfast war ended, and the two of them fussed about other things that Byakuya quickly tuned out. Would this be his fate if his next wife was left up to the decision of Jirimi Mamuda? Would the rest of his life include a stubborn, untamable shrew that got whatever she wanted? He almost laughed at the thought coming out wrong. He wasn’t comparing Rukia to a shrew or anything. A loud crash jarred him from his musings. He rushed out of his room to see Ichigo’s face planted into a wall. Rukia cracked her knuckles and frowned at the fallen would-be soul reaper.

“And I don’t ever want to hear that kind of _doubt_ from you again! You got that, Ichigo? We don’t know what’s to come, but you will be ready for the next battle and if you think you won’t, look into my eyes, and know that you will! You are the most determined man I’ve ever known. Nothing is impossible for you!”

* * *

  _“Sometimes I cannot help but wonder if I will be ready when the time comes.”_

_“When it was hard for me to trust myself, you were there for me. Let me return the favor. You’ll make your parents proud. That’s just the kind of man you are.”_

* * *

Byakuya redirected his attention to the ailing boy on the floor and his sister. He was stunned. He’d never seen Rukia so passionate before. Usually she was docile and humble. He supposed that was the part of herself she felt was most appropriate to show him. Ichigo placed a hand to his bruised cheek and smiled at her. His smile was soon usurped by a pensive scowl. He took a few moments to swallow her words then stood up and crouched to ensure he was face-level with his tiny counterpart using her shoulders to support his weight. She moved her head back a little in surprise before he reached out to take her into his arms tightly.

“Thanks, Rukia,” he said.

She softened in his embrace. Byakuya turned away. He didn’t know that they were _this_ close to each other.

“But next time you don’t have to knock me into a fuckin’ wall to get your point across!”

Byakuya cringed at the sound of the teenager’s raised voice and decided that he’d had enough of them. He cleared his throat loudly and they both froze as if they’d been caught doing something terrible. He narrowed his eyes dangerously at them and Ichigo threw up his hands in protest. Rukia blushed until her complexion matched a tomato’s, and the Kuchiki head could do nothing but sigh.

“If you two are _quite_ done with your back and forth, could you please make yourselves scarce until breakfast? It is in one hour and _I_ will pick what we will have, and if you’d be so kind as to not cause any more damage to my house, I’d appreciate it. I just got done reversing all of the renovations made by that infernal Women’s Shinigami Association, and I’d like to keep things as they are.”

He swiftly passed by them, _haori_ and scarf flapping in tow, to retire to the other side of the house to be _far_ away from their raucous. Ichigo felt a shiver course his spine. Even though he was getting stronger and surpassing the captains’ abilities at lightning speed, Byakuya scared the shit out of him. Rukia was mortified. She constantly exhausted herself trying to be an acceptable sister, and all of her efforts were probably just blown to hell. Ichigo grabbed her hand to reassure her that it was all okay. Byakuya looked back, sighing again. He didn’t want her to think he was upset.

“I am not angry,” he said flatly. “You two are just noisy. Please try to keep it down.”

Ichigo smiled. No matter how frigid Byakuya seemed, he had a soft spot for Rukia. He mentally patted himself on the back for bringing that side of him out. He and Rukia decided to go out to the gardens and Byakuya was relieved.

An hour later, breakfast was ready and the menu featured seasonal fruit, rice, and rolled omelets. Ichigo was shocked. Clearly, Byakuya heard them arguing and took his side. Rukia frowned even though the spread looked appetizing. Byakuya watched their reactions.

“Do not become full of yourself, Ichigo Kurosaki. You merely managed to suggest something decent, and do not fret Rukia.”

A servant uncovered Rukia’s plate of fruit, and the watermelon, apples, and plums had been arranged in the shape of Chappy the Rabbit. She almost squealed from joy. Ichigo couldn’t help but smile and hope his omelet wasn’t poisoned.

They ate silently. Mamuda shuffled in, passed the breakfast attendant without acknowledgement, and pulled out his own chair before she could seat him. Byakuya bristled. _Now he’s showing up for breakfast?_ A plate of food was brought out to him and his eyes sparkled at the feast. He looked at Rukia’s plate of fruit and rolled his eyes. He’d walked in so quickly that he failed to notice Ichigo, but now, being so close to his obscene hair, he couldn’t help but see him.

“Boy,” he began after taking a bite of food, “what are you doing here?”

Rukia shot him a glare but he shrugged his shoulders as if he wasn’t bothered. She looked at Byakuya with pleading eyes but her brother had better reasons to address his advisor than defending Ichigo Kurosaki’s presence as a guest. He cleared his throat. Ichigo, ever unaware of things, continued scarfing down his meal. He hated to admit it, but the Kuchiki chefs ensured that it would be difficult for him to adjust to Yuzu’s cooking when he returned home.

Mamuda waited for an answer from the orange-head but Ichigo was having a hard time hearing over his own munching. Rukia closed her eyes and mustered all the strength she could to refrain from dragging the old advisor for filth. She didn’t want to offend her brother again but she wouldn’t tolerate Mamuda insulting Ichigo.

Mamuda tapped his fingers against the table as he waited for Ichigo to notice anything other than sustenance. He smiled at Rukia almost daring her to action. He decided to have a little fun at her expense since he so clearly affected her. Before he could begin his play, Ichigo looked at him awkwardly.

“Rukia,” Ichigo leaned down to whisper to her, “who’s that old guy? Is he Byakuya’s dad?”

Byakuya felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Ichigo was a hopeless idiot without an ounce of manners. If he listened closely enough, he swore he heard his father turning over in his grave. Mamuda placed a palm to his forehead and glared at Ichigo. Rukia felt a vein bulging at her temple and pinched Ichigo’s thigh underneath the table. He yelped and jumped out of his chair. Rukia rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. Ichigo shot her a “what did I do? I’m sorry” look and sat back down. He looked over at Byakuya who had resumed eating his breakfast. There was a period of silence before he spoke again.

“Hey,” he called out to Mamuda with a half-eaten apple in his hand, “I’m Ichigo! It’s nice to meet you.”

Mamuda was offended by the young boy’s garishness. Ichigo watched his face contort giving away all sorts of emotions (none of them nice), but couldn’t realize what he’d done. Everyone seemed uptight and angry.

“Yep. Definitely Byakuya’s dad. You seem just as pissed off as he always is.”

Byakuya slammed a hand down onto the table and everyone looked at him. Leave it to Ichigo to confirm Mamuda’s opinion that he was nothing but a disappointment that fraternized openly with classless commoners. He convinced himself to remember again that he loved Rukia dearly, but felt she couldn’t have knit herself to a more disrespectful and arrogant boy. Rukia reached out to grab a handful of Ichigo’s hair and stood up. Ichigo was confused but knew for a fact that he’d done something wrong. He winced from the pain and swatted her hand away. They stared daggers at each other. Mid-stare down, he winked at her and smiled. She couldn’t help melting. She could never truly be angry with him.

Byakuya watched them and realized that his and Mamuda’s presences had faded away, and the young couple focused on nothing except each other. He smirked. Try as he might to despise Ichigo, he just couldn’t. The boy had a way about him. One could literally go from attempting to murder him to hosting him as a houseguest. Byakuya’s softened demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Mamuda who had to admit that there _was_ _something_ endearingly peculiar about the substitute soul reaper. However, he was still just a commoner.

“’Sorry, Byakuya,” Ichigo bowed his head. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Rukia smiled confidently. Byakuya waved a hand of dismissal and everyone resumed eating their breakfast.

“So my Lord, I thought you should know that I’ve found a bride for you,” Mamuda announced. “I think you’ll be pleased with my selection.”

Rukia was so caught off guard that she felt she’d swallow her tongue. Ichigo choked on his drink and looked at the Kuchiki leader who seethed with something terrifying. Ichigo’s eyes widened and he glanced at Mamuda, then Rukia, and then Byakuya again. _A bride?_ Clearly, this guy was joking. Byakuya was the _last_ person that Ichigo thought of as a husband or a romantic. He snickered and tried to stifle his laughter but failed. Before Byakuya could control himself, he threw a chopstick at Ichigo, hitting him across the head. Rukia’s mouth fell completely open and Mamuda was the one laughing now. He couldn’t have wished for a better reaction. The breakfast had become a circus.

“ _What the fuck, Byakuya_? Why is this family so violent?”

Ichigo looked around the room for the projectile eating utensil as Rukia dealt another blow to the back of his head for his language. He grunted loudly and began imagining the fall of Soul Society if _one more person hit him._

“Nii-sama, what does he mean by ‘bride?’”

Byakuya could see the worry in his sister’s eyes. He wondered if it was because of Hisana. Would she be angry with him for remarrying and replacing her sister? She studied his face while Ichigo brooded quietly with slumped shoulders. Byakuya dreaded getting into this so early in the morning with an audience no less, but it couldn’t be helped. Even with his ever-sharp flash step, he could never outrun the inevitable. Rukia smiled. Though the Kuchiki advisors and elders considered her illegitimate, she was devoted to her brother, and vowed that she would remain close to him in order to help as much as she could since he was without a wife to care for him. She noted that he seemed stiffer than usual after Mamuda’s outburst. She’d never witnessed him caught off guard. However, the news delighted her. She desperately prayed for Byakuya’s happiness even though he and many others accepted his resignation to single life.

“Congratulations, Nii-sama! This… is wonderful! Who is she?”

“Two months from now at this estate, Byakuya, the 28th head of the House of Kuchiki will marry Sakura, the one and only daughter of the House of Tsukōji. I’ve met with her father and he is, as you can understand, overjoyed. He’d almost given up hope that the Kuchikis would live on.”

_Destiny awaited. Fifty years was a long time to miss someone._

Mamuda took a long sip of his beverage. Byakuya felt he’d tear his soul asunder as he tried to keep calm. Rukia grabbed her mouth in shock. She greatly admired Captain Tsukōji for her beauty and skill in battle. Captain Ukitake and Kaien had sometimes told her little tidbits about Byakuya as a boy, and how he was attached at the hip to Sakura. She never knew why they were no longer close and often thought to ask her brother but she did not want to make him uncomfortable. She saw that the news bothered him, and her heart sank. Perhaps things between him and the _Gotei_ 13’s battle strategist were broken beyond repair.

She understood it well; the pain separation bestows on a relationship. She and Ichigo often said goodbye. Whenever she was cleared to go back to Karakura Town, she always felt such peace at the humble home attached to a clinic. They could be in the middle of war and it was her safe place. She noticed how he always kept her things just as she left them. His closet was comfortable. The room smelled and felt like him. His _reiatsu_ enveloped it. When they parted it was agony, but the ecstasy she experienced when she remembered the look in his eyes as she tried to make herself ready to leave was enough. It was enough to know that it was never the end of them.

When Renji began avoiding her, it stung. They grew up together and were suddenly worlds apart. It shocked her that he no longer ran to her to report his good grades or tout his position as an advanced placement student. It was painful watching him graduate after she’d already been discreetly passed through the program. They were supposed to walk together, rejoice together, and experience the nervousness that preceded the reception of their assignment letters. She heard through murmurs how happy he was after being assigned to Fifth Company. All of her friends were celebrating and she was alone.

Separation was a thief. It damaged bonds, but it wasn’t stronger than destiny. She and Ichigo’s bond would never break, and she and Renji could carry on like old times again. She wondered what fate had planned for her brother and his old friend.

“People still have arranged marriages?” Ichigo asked. Rukia rolled her eyes before dealing him another smack.

Byakuya cleared his throat and attempted to speak but words failed him. How could Tsekō agree to this? It was clear that the old man was well aware of the time and distance that wedged itself between him and Sakura. Breaking the ice, as he suggested, and getting married were two entirely different matters. How would Sakura feel about this? If custom was respected, she was unaware of the decision regarding her future which meant Byakuya would have to formally propose either in person or by letter which was most often the case. It was all pretense because as a woman, she was unable to refuse.

“I do not accept,” he said plainly, trying to muster all the poise that had become his signature. “I do not think this is the best choice.”

Mamuda rolled his eyes. He was thankful he never had children. He did not take kindly to the word ‘no’, and it was something he could count on with the young Kuchiki.

“And how did I know _that_ would be your answer? I could have easily contracted you to some simple-minded, young twit, but imagine my shock when I ran into Tsekō and remembered his pretty little daughter, your friend. You should be grateful.”

Rukia felt the conversation shifting towards an argument and thought it best for her and Ichigo to leave. The breakfast attendant had already long since left. She stood up from the table and grabbed Ichigo by the arm. Still blind to the situation’s gravity, he frowned at her. Frankly, he was ready for seconds. He reached across the table for a handful of grapes. Mamuda studied the youngsters and decided to play his trump card. He knew Byakuya loved his little adopted sister so why not try her hand?

“You two should stay,” he said. “Maybe you could talk some sense into your brother, Rukia. This family needs an heir and I know how tenderly your brother’s heart beats though to the untrained eye, he just appears cold.”

Ichigo nodded. Though his host, sometimes, in his own way, showed a gentler side, Byakuya _was_ frigid. Below zero. It was baffling that Rukia was the one that commanded ice and snow. It really could have worked the other way around. The nod earned him another slap across the head. The more he thought about it, perhaps he would fare better as a guest of Eleventh Company.

“My Lord, you entrusted me with this task and I have seen it to completion. The arrangement has been accepted and signed by Tsekō Tsukōji. We only await your signature and mine as a witness. It would be a shame to have to send you to him with a refusal.”

The dictating advisor took his leave just after glaring at Ichigo. If his Lord didn’t want to marry Sakura, he’d have to decline himself. He was starting to think it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to be down one noble family. He was too old for this. Byakuya sighed. An awkward silence lingered. Sakura was still quite young but old enough that it was abnormal for her to be contracted primarily. The younger nobility was first choice for the purpose of bearing many children.

The noble ladies were blessed with dense spiritual pressure but almost never engaged in combat. Their power mostly existed to be passed on to their offspring in conjunction with their husbands’ abilities. Though she was still of child-bearing age, Sakura was a warrior. She was battle-scarred and devoted to her position as a captain. Matrimony yielded in favor of a career for her, and because of her many brothers and other circumstances, her father never urged her to marry despite the judgment he received from other nobles.

“Byakuya, what’s the story with you and this chick? You look like that guy asked you to marry a monster. I don’t agree much with being forced to marry anyone so if you don’t want to do it, just don’t.”

Ichigo felt like he knew Byakuya well enough. The cool Kuchiki didn’t let things bother him easily and if he did, he never showed it. It was clear that Mamuda’s outburst had shaken him. The young boy often frowned upon the ways of the Soul Society and particularly, Byakuya’s sense of duty. He believed that people should do what’s best for them and in that regard, he and Rukia’s brother were as different as heaven and earth. He supposed he and Byakuya _were_ heaven and earth. Rukia struggled. It was neither her place nor Ichigo’s to question her brother’s choices. He did what he felt he had to do. But couldn’t he once have what _he_ _wanted_?

“Sakura and I were once very close but we are no longer what we were,” Byakuya said.

He subdued the unrest mounting inside him, and regained his composure. Sakura crossed his mind more lately than he’d allowed her to in a long time. It was as if she was everywhere, the past always calling out to him. Some things he wanted to forget and others he wanted to remember forever. He once believed their bond could never be broken but she was a carefree petal dancing to her own melody and he was the tree, always firmly planted. Ichigo swore he saw Byakuya’s eyes glint with the light of nostalgia, but it was gone too quickly.

“Bullshit!”

Ichigo stood up and began clearing the table. He placed dirty dishes on a lavish steel cart to be taken away. Though Byakuya had made it clear there were servants for such things, he helped out all the same. Rukia let out a pained groan but was ignored. She counted the seconds until Byakuya would no doubt, take Ichigo by the collar and throw him out of his home. She shut her eyes tightly and hoped he would just shut up.

“Look, man, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t ask. Just don’t give me some lame ass excuse. It’s written all over your face that she means _something_ to you no matter how much you try to hide it.”

Normally, Ichigo kept quiet about his business and the things that challenged him. He always respected that as a right of others as well. He and Rukia strived for transparency in their relationship, but not at the expense of trampling on each other’s feelings. Byakuya was by no means over the top, but there was concern so greatly painted on his face, and _he’d hit him_. And with a chopstick for crying out loud. As much as Ichigo wanted to just hash it out and be done with it, he could hear Rukia’s plea to let it go even though she sat silently.

“Come on,” he brushed Rukia’s shoulder. “Byakuya, just try to forget about arrangements and heirs and reach out to the person you care about. If it were Rukia, I’d never just let it end like that.”

Rukia turned to meet her brother’s eyes. _Be happy._ She hoped he could hear the prayer of her heart. They took off, leaving him with much to process. _So be it._

* * *

Three days into Intake and there was already a band of troublemakers that had stayed out past curfew and gotten wasted at a bar in the _Rukongai_. Another faction attempted to break into Twelfth Company’s barracks and were almost captured and experimented on by Captain Kurotsuchi. Sakura shook her head as she read the incident reports. There would be a hearing to decide punishment and she was certain there would be no freshman class if this kept up. A knock on her office door came and much to her surprise, it was the buxom lieutenant of Tenth Company. Rangiku stumbled in, most likely impaired by a hangover. Sakura smiled and put the reports away to provide her undivided attention.

“Caaaptain, Tsukōji,” she drawled. “I hope I’m not bothering you barging in like this.”

Usually at the end of the first week of the semester, after more or less working the lieutenants to the bone, Sakura treated them to dinner and drinks at a fine restaurant in the _Seireitei_. Notably, Rangiku and Renji did more than their fair share throughout the week by taking on extra shifts at the dorms. It was hard keeping the students in line but they performed beautifully and saved the instructors and Sakura a lot of trouble. Rangiku usually reserved the location for the rewarding night out and came by to retrieve the deposit from the generous captain. The lieutenants along with Ikkaku and Yumichika (how they always managed to be a part of it was still unknown) greatly looked forward to stretching her pockets every semester.  

In addition to coming for the money, Rangiku persistently tried to convince Sakura to come to the affair. Every semester, it was left up to the other captains to draw numbers and act as a chaperone if any were interested. Suspiciously Eighth Company’s captain always drew the winning number. Despite their capabilities, the lieutenants needed a sharp eye on them when they all got together. Absolutely no one would consider Shunsui as the best choice for such a role so Jūshirō would accompany him. She took an envelope out of a drawer and slid it across the desk towards Rangiku who stuffed it inside of her bosom. A mischievous smile graced her lips. Sakura shook her head.

“No,” she said before the lieutenant could start begging.

Rangiku decided that she wouldn’t take that for an answer this time. Sakura was kind, effective, and easy to work with. Lieutenants and seated officers relied on her for advice and direction. It was shocking to find a noblewoman that didn’t mind getting her hands dirty, could fight, and had a sense of humor. She took her job seriously, but she was relatable to other soul reapers that came from either humble beginnings or downright gruesome ones. Nevertheless, she nobly carried herself with an out-of-reach poise that Rangiku admired, but couldn’t aspire to.

“Captain, all you do is work. I never see you let your hair down.”

Sakura sighed. She often “let her hair down”, but it was almost certainly not in a way Rangiku would appreciate. There were always events and social gatherings to attend among the Four Great Noble Families. She often went with her father since her mother was no longer with them.

“I get out, Rangiku,” she said as she began filing documents.

Rangiku followed her across the room with her arms crossed, wearing a pout.

“Hanging with your dad is not getting out, Captain.”

They went back and forth until the lieutenant promised never to ask her to join them again if she would just this _one_ time. It was an attractive offer. The pestering was relentless. She mulled it over and decided that she wouldn’t bring shame to her family by going out to the _Rukongai_ for drinks, since she was certain Rangiku would suggest it after dinner. It touched Sakura that the gathering meant so much to the vice-captains so against her better judgment, she agreed. Rangiku hugged her quickly and hurried for the door.

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a cute guy” was the last thing she said as she backed out of the office.

Sakura blushed after realizing her real objective. The Shinigami Women’s Association often gossiped about men they wanted to fix her up with, but she always brushed it off as she did their other foolish desires. Now, she especially dreaded the night out. Rangiku was crafty. She would try to facilitate a meeting with some man or incessantly pump her for information about the kind of man she might consider. Before she could warn the lieutenant about incurring her wrath with her games, Rangiku shrieked.

“Ow!” She rubbed her head. “Ayano, watch where you’re—”

Both she and Sakura’s eyes widened at the sight of an unexpected visitor. Seventh Company’s lieutenant, Ayano Kuramoto had also spilled into the room. He’d tried to explain to the superior that his captain was currently in a meeting, but was soundlessly overlooked. Rangiku grabbed her fellow lieutenant, muttered her apologies for being so clumsy, and left the room. Sakura stood stiffly and studied her guest until she realized she openly gawked at him.

“Byak—” she started before clearing her throat. “Captain Kuchiki, hello. Is there something I can assist you with?”

Her mind raced, and coherent thoughts began to slip away. She knew she was talking but couldn’t hear the words coming out as they seemed to drift further out as if they sailed away. She felt herself falling back to a different time and place when things were simple and painfully _easy._ Understanding his intentions and what he thought baffled many people yet she could always draw out his feelings and ascertain what bothered him, what elated him, and anything else about him he didn’t let others catch onto. However, now, she felt like everyone else.

“Sakura,” he said softly. There was a pause filled to the point of overflow with missed opportunity, regret, and maybe even a bit of hopefulness that filled his lungs before he breathed to speak again. “I need to discuss a personal matter with you.”

 


	4. The Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> A/N: kenseikan: star insert that Byakuya wore in his hair prior to the Fullbringer arc, and again in Chapters 685-686  
> zanpakutō: soul cutter  
> gauntlet: an armored glove, as worn by a medieval knight  
> couter: the defense for the elbow in a piece of plate armor  
> vambrace: forearm guards in a suit of armor  
> Rukongai: Wandering Soul City; "Rukon District," English  
> reiatsu: spiritual pressure  
> haori: an outer robe. The Captain’s robe, specifically, in this context.  
> Gūhatsu Jigoku no Mon: Contingent Gate of Hell, something I made up not previously in the series  
>  

Silence. How long were they just going to stand there staring at each other? Apparently, he had something to say. He made it clear enough by unapologetically swishing through her front office completely ignoring her lieutenant. On top of that, it was the first time she’d ever seen Rangiku nervous before. Even when her prodigy of a captain caught her doing everything except tending to her work, she was startled, at best, but never nervous.

_Focus, Sakura._

Even in silence that seemed to transpire for eternity, there was nothing in his expression that helped her understand why he abandoned their friendship. There was simply his now classic quietude. He was as noble as she’d ever seen him; standing tall, lips in a flat line, commanding all of her attention. Her face flushed from remembering that she had not been in a room alone with him since their last meeting. She wished she knew then that they were saying goodbye. 

The previous day moved along quickly for him after breakfast with his sister and his orange aneurysm. The house was quiet, almost ghostly, once they left. They learned the business that he was not ready to tell, and never returned. He figured that they were off somewhere discussing him which made his blood boil. He needed to speak to Sakura soon, or risk the bickering boy and girl _accidentally_ running their mouths so he instructed Renji to hand out duties to Sixth Company in his absence. He was explicit that the squad members should spend as much time as possible keeping busy with matters regarding Intake. Meeting the students, sitting in on panels and classes, and assisting with extracurricular activities would keep his division occupied for the latter part of the week easily. The young lieutenant was honored that his captain entrusted him with such responsibility, and the shadow of guilt stunted Byakuya briefly. The circumstances for leaving Renji to man over the Sixth didn't necessarily hinge on his merit. However, he allowed the ambitious redhead to stroke his own ego. It would only be a matter of time anyway before Rukia or Ichigo told him what was really going on. He wanted to break someone’s neck. Anyone would do.

Once he finished voicing his expectations to his vice-captain, he closed out all other business for the day and went home. A certain twosome was still missing in action. He rolled his eyes, deciding to retire early. Sleep evaded him causing him to thrash about the bed mangling the bed covers and kicking the pillows overboard. He couldn’t pinpoint what to say in his head. Every time he attempted to rehearse the words, he became frustrated and tried again to sleep and, perchance, dream about how to ask not only for her forgiveness, but for her hand. Rest never came. When the morning arrived, he wiped his tired eyes, and decided against shattering the bedroom mirror after taking a look at himself. He dismissed his attendants not wanting them to see him so undone, and was left alone to get ready for the day. The night had not been kind. He noted his red eyes and dull skin. To his horror, his hair that _never_ tangled was a knotted mess. After dropping and breaking two _kenseikan_ rendering them unwearable, he nearly turned the room upside down before accepting that he didn’t have any extra ones. It felt unnatural to wear just the three lining the top of his head but they would have to do. When did he become so high maintenance? His father wore one, lone _kenseikan_ without the slightest problem with it.

He fidgeted as he tried to secure his clothing with a sash. It wasn’t working. He’d only dressed himself a couple of times in his life. It was always a dreadful experience. After trying to catch one end of the sash with his free hand, and dropping the secured end with the other hand, he threw his clothing across the room. Falling back onto the bed, he drew in a deep breath, trying to calm down. After imperfectly robing himself, he fumbled around the house, grabbing something quick to eat. There was no morning brawl over the menu. The halls were as quiet as a church mouse. At long last, the moment arrived when he could have peace after months of their clamor, and he couldn’t even enjoy it. How dare they stay out all night and not bother to even come home before breakfast?

_Perhaps I would make a good father._

Finally, he made it to her office and finally, after too long, he stood before her taking her in; her dark eyes, a mixture of the deepest blue and black, the pieces of armor she wore as opposed to a _shihakushō_ , the black pleated skirt that rested just above her knees, tall boots, the crimson engraving of the Seventh Company insignia on her breastplate along with the Tsukōji crest, and her clean, almond-shaped nails on fingers that somehow, despite battle, maintained the delicacy he loved in their youth. Her hair was pulled up as she usually wore it at work, and he wondered if it was still long or if she’d cut it for ease in combat. She looked like a knight and too masculine, many of the older noblewomen argued, but it was just the armor. The little skin she exposed was creamy and flawless, and his hands ached to scale its softness. He frowned at the resurfacing of feelings he’d tried desperately to keep at bay.

She abandoned hope long ago that they would make amends. As much as she wanted to blame him, she blamed herself for not forcing him to acknowledge her. Sometimes she wondered how different things would be if she’d called him out, but it was the pain that hit him back to back that restrained her. His father’s death, Hisana’s death, and finally, his grandfather’s. He didn’t need her burdening him with a friendship that was over, but she still wanted to know _why_.

After drawing a long breath, he took up moving around her office, still searching for the words to say. It was a nice distraction. Not once had he seen it during all of her years as a captain. There were pictures of her with her subordinates and other officers. They were happy photos. Historical artifacts lined the left wall of the room. He found horns and teeth from hollows that had to have been severed before the unclean spirits received the final blow of a _zanpakutō_. He spotted a bar cart and noticed, among the many items on it, an ornate, black cast iron tea set with her initials. Her family was a famous dealer of tea leaves, pots, and sets. Once allowing himself to breathe and relax, he noticed that the office smelled of jasmine and sandalwood. It put him at ease. He was so at peace that he almost forgot why he was there until he heard the sound of her gauntlets clanging against each other.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked, removing the rest of the metal protecting her arms.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. She pointed to the chair in front of her desk prompting him to have a seat as she prepared their tea. She pulled a handful of leaves and using a knife and mortar, she cut and ground them into a fine powder. Her knuckles whitened from the work, but she wore the most diligent look on her face. _Ever the perfectionist_. A small smile found him. After sifting the powder, she halved it into two cups, and poured hot water into both. She placed their drinks on the desk and sat down. After a few sips, he nodded his approval. She stared into the cup as she released a heavy sigh.

“What do you want, Byakuya?”

A flurry of emotions danced in her heart. She was shocked that he even came to her. Nostalgia surged as he brought with him many of her most fond memories as well as her painful ones. He was gorgeous to the point of distraction which almost made her forget the magnitude of the moment. The Women’s _Shinigami_ Association’s “captain the ladies would most like a photobook of” was an honor bestowed on him for good reason. He was the boy that used to make her blush whenever she felt his spiritual pressure arriving to her family’s estate. He could undo her with just a glance. She thought it was unfortunate that he still appeared to have that power. She noticed he didn’t wear his scarf. Also, his robe was a bit loose, exposing his collarbones and a portion of his chest. The summer sun had given him a bronzy hue and his muscles were tight and smooth. After banishing her appreciation for his form, she allowed her frustration to return. He’d come into her office, frightening her hard-working lieutenant with his arrogance and entitlement. She wanted to let him have it, but it was useless. He had been a pompous jerk for the last half-century yet she was unsuccessful in mustering any real anger towards him.

Her dispassionate demand to know the meaning of his presence cut him swiftly. He couldn’t detect any other feelings from her but indifference. He thought that since she hadn’t refused him entirely, and even made him tea meant that she was not angry, but she made it hard to tell. The nervousness that plagued him the entire night resurfaced. However, he had stalled long enough.

“Do you remember when I cheated in that race for the spicy edamame?” he asked.

Her hand twitched as she let go of her teacup and placed it back onto the desk. A wave of vulnerability washed over her, prompting her to reach for her armor. Once she clicked the couter and vambrace into place on her left arm, she thought of how to approach his out-of-the-blue query. Truthfully, it was difficult to eat edamame or spicy things again without remembering that day.

“I remember,” she confirmed.

He expected more of a response but accepted her answer. They locked eyes and he attempted to, once more, decipher her. She maintained a tepid demeanor.

“Do you remember when I stayed behind and decided not to enroll in the _Shinigami_ Academy with you?”

It hurt but she soldiered on. Even if he placed his dreams on hold, she owed it to herself to maintain her own identity. She tried her best to instill the importance of remaining true to oneself into her squad members, especially the ladies. The Soul Society was quite progressive compared to civilizations she witnessed in the World of the Living, but there were still so many flaws. Women could hold high-ranking positions and were respected for the most part, but there was an incredible amount of sexism, and despite her efforts and the decline in number, there were still rape cases that found her desk each semester. For many reasons, she admired women of the _Rukongai_. Their independence and fortitude intrigued her. In the nobility, women were mostly seen as the property of their fathers and husbands. She would never apologize for relentlessly combatting such backwards thinking.

“I remember,” she said again.

There was talk among the servants that his temper disappointed his grandfather. Tumbling into the demanding coursework involved with becoming a _Shinigami_ would only deter him from his goal. His clan was his chief priority and he wanted Ginrei’s approval beyond the shadow of a doubt. She assured him repeatedly that he was ready and that his temper never got in the way of him fulfilling his duties. He argued how collected his grandfather and her father were, and that he was not fit to lead if he could not attain their level of restraint. It was the quality that gave leaders their longevity, he believed. She countered that it was due to their years of experience that they even had restraint to begin with, but he did not have the luxury of time. Ginrei was getting too old and there was no one to take control except for him. Seeing it was an unavoidable undertaking, she respected his decision, but let him know that she was moving forward with her enrollment. A crossroads lay before them.

“Do you remember when you graduated from the Academy?”

It was pointless because she would never forget anything with even a loose connection to him and their past. She carried him in her heart and no amount of time or distance could change that. She stared at him with eyes that begged him to cease his questioning.

“I remember all of those things and you know that I do so what is the meaning of this?” she caught the breath she’d been holding, and cursed herself for raising her voice.

Over the years, he was adamant about pushing her out of his mind. When their paths diverged, they strayed so far from each other that he forgot how to get back to her so he filled his life with other things that eventually left his heart weary and burdened. On the way to her, he recalled their happy times and forced himself to face the sad ones and ultimately, his role in all of it.

“I remember that I made you cry after that race. I remember that you cried when I told you I didn’t feel ready to enroll and I remember that you cried as you gave your speech at the graduation.”

She closed her eyes tightly. He _was_ there _._ She dreaded her graduation ceremony because the night before, her father announced that Byakuya had been secretly married. The news came down on her like a collapsed building because not only had they drifted apart, but he had now kept the most significant decision of his life from her. She questioned if she ever meant anything to him. As she walked the stage to address the other students and hopefully, leave a legacy behind that would strengthen the Academy, she searched the crowd for his _reiatsu_. She just wanted him to be there for her biggest moment even though he hadn’t allowed her to partake in his. He wasn’t there. For a moment, it was as if she sensed him, but she believed it was merely her imagination and desire.

“You… were there?”

Her voice was soft and free like a weight had been lifted.

* * *

Hisana left for the _Rukongai_ a few days after they were married. She wanted to find the baby sister that she abandoned. Byakuya had to order her maidservants to wait on her after the head servant, an old woman very much established in her ways, refused to attend to a “peasant.” The disrespectful treatment didn’t end there. In the eyes of the ladies of the house, he was confused and under the spell of the common woman’s witchcraft. They were fixated on finding devious and hurtful ways to make her feel as if she didn’t belong in his world. He let her leave without putting up a fight or voicing his concern for her welfare because he knew that she needed to get away from the manor where she constantly endured insults and being watched. His marriage quickly spread around the nobility and the _Seireitei_ , and he knew that things were going to get worse before they improved.

After seeing Hisana off, his grandfather reminded him that Sakura was graduating and that nothing would make her happier than seeing him. He didn’t know if that was the truth. The days leading up to the graduation frittered away on the calendar, making his heart heavy. He was married and he was certain, by now, that she’d heard about it, just not from him. He couldn’t face her and ruin her special day so he attended the ceremony incognito. He saw instructors gush over her. He remembered the first and only time the Head Captain shed tears. She spoke about integrity, true strength, and defying odds to a room full of people that hung on every word.

_“It’s true that I am of noble blood,” she said. “But that does not give me the right to look down on others. If anything, my shoulders bear a greater burden to be kind and bless others for I do not know the hardships they’ve endured. That’s the kind of solider of the Gotei I want to be. I want to protect the defenseless and I want to be a voice for those that are not heard.”_

The audience stood with perfect timing in a standing ovation and he watched as many attendees wiped their eyes. Captain Ukitake rushed to her and hugged her tightly. The seasoned captain went out of his way to encourage new soul reapers but was especially fond of Sakura who was not opposed to work beneath a woman of her stature. Byakuya wanted to pummel the white-haired man as Jūshirō lifted her off the ground, wrapping her in a tight hug. Though she was a graduate and one of the captain’s favorite pupils, she was still a lady of the nobility, not a ragdoll. Her father, enveloped in pride as he witnessed the respect she garnered from her superiors, looked on smiling, dissipating Byakuya’s rage. They were all just proud of her and couldn’t help expressing it while he merely watched from a distance.

* * *

“I was there, Sakura. There are three times in my life that I know I have made you cry. I am ashamed of it. I am ashamed of many things that I have done, but it’s the thing that I have not done that has kept me awake at night, and followed me around every day that I walk the _Seireitei_ and feel you near. I should not have abandoned you. I’m sorry.”

She used to go over what it would be like to talk to him again. What would they say to each other? Would the meeting be awkward? Would either of them still care? She used to believe that time only strengthened bonds. One day, she stopped clinging to her childish fantasies. It was her daily prayer for so long that the gap separating them would close, but finally, she accepted their fate. Now, all of that resolve, he challenged, making her feel suffocated. In more than fifty years he hadn’t even looked her way. She moved from her desk, trying to remain calm. Once she put enough of a functional distance between them, she spoke.

“ _Why_?” she asked with clenched fists, her back to him, and her head hanging.

He stood up and approached her cautiously. Her _reiatsu_ began to spill out raggedly. He exerted his own spiritual pressure towards her and their souls met. She slowly subsided and allowed his energy to wrap itself around her. He still felt the same, his aura cool and gentle against her skin like the first blossoms of early spring.

“Do you think it upset me that you got married? I have only ever wanted your happiness. I was upset that you _didn’t tell me._ We used to talk about everything. When Hisana died, I just– I wanted to check on you. I wanted to be there for you but I couldn’t reach you. I couldn’t feel you anymore. I couldn’t figure out what I did to make you hate me so much.”

For the first time in many years, he felt like weeping. Perhaps tears would wash away the shame he felt or maybe they could erase the way he hurt her. Maybe they could wear down everything that built a wall between them.

“Never,” he said, almost suffering a break in his voice. “It was never that. I just thought that you felt betrayed and upset by my decision.”

If it hadn’t broken her heart, she would have laughed. Their entire adult lives disjoined over something so fragile and trivial. They were just as silly as the humans, she supposed. She didn’t expect for him to wait on her. She knew that when they went on their separate journeys, fate would begin to unravel its plans for their individual lives. She just believed that they would always be a part of each other’s lives.

“You dummy,” she shook her head. “Instead of telling me you had fallen in love and were getting married, you made up some ridiculous story that I would be upset with you? Good job, Kuchiki. You managed to piss me off by trying to avoid pissing me off.”

He sighed and remembered her father’s words about her harboring no ill will towards him. Life was simply a series of choices. It had been difficult for him to stop regretting the ones he made. He frowned at her crude choice of words. They reminded him too much of Ichigo.

“Watch your language, young lady,” he warned.

She cocked her head to the side and waited for him to let her know that he was just joking. When he remained still and serious, she laughed lightly. His frown worsened, and he cleared his throat.

“I fail to see the humor,” he said.

She smiled. _He was still the same_. He still moved her in and out of a symphony of emotions effortlessly. She closed the space between them and leaned in to take a good look at him. He inclined his eyes downward to accommodate their height difference, and stepped back as only a few inches stood between them.

“So who dressed you this morning? A toddler?” she asked. “There are knots in your hair. You are missing your scarf, and if you move another step, my Lord Byakuya, that sash is going to give way and we’ll have a scandal in the Soul Society.”

She continued to observe him, something also seemed strange about his head. He looked off balance. She covered her mouth to smother her laughter. The red flush that dispersed from the center of his face to his ears left him without words. He pulled the _haori_ across the front of his body and folded his arms. Her laughter was sweet, bubbling with relief.

“Byakuya… thank you for apologizing,” her voice grew soft, not losing its seriousness. “I _never_ blamed you. I was never angry. I just… missed you,” she said.

He smiled again, resisting the urge to embrace her. He had thought about little except the prospect of her forgiveness for quite a while. He didn’t realize how much he needed it. Silence fell on them again. She peeked past him and rolled her eyes at the stack of files on her desk. She enlisted his help in looking at student profiles to get an initial feel for the squad each of them would best be suited for. They worked quietly and he drew a red circle around one profile mentally noting, _Renji’s replacement._

He enjoyed the rhythm between them, but remembered that he had not covered all of the details surrounding his visit. He organized the files he worked on, put them aside, and looked at her. She was engrossed in scribbling notes and making many faces at what she read.

“Sakura, the elders and advisors of my clan are asking me to produce an heir, and I have been contracted to marry again.”

She accidentally circled the wrong student’s profile picture and suffered a pain in her chest as her heart pounded. She looked away from her work to notice that he wore a bit of nervousness on his face. Years ago, he failed to tell her that he was going to be married, and now the decision had been made again. All she wanted then was for him to talk to her, and she wondered how she would have responded. Now, words failed her. So many questions buzzed in her head, but couldn’t escape her mouth.

“I knew this day would come,” she finally said with an air of nobility that stirred even him. “As the head of the Kuchiki clan, you are obligated to pass on its name. I understand the elders’ insistence. I also understand that you might be resistant. You married Hisana because you loved her. It was not a contract.”

He sighed. The room felt hot and he removed his _haori_ after verifying that he would not suffer a mortifying wardrobe malfunction. He refreshed his cup with hot water. He didn’t know how to say what needed to be said. He had apologized to her and she accepted. It was supposed to be the most difficult part of facing her again, but it seemed like a walk in the park compared to proposing. She watched him move around aimlessly, and hated that she couldn’t lighten his burden. As a noble, male leader he had duties that were uncompromising and could not be avoided.

“How do you feel about it all?” she asked as she pushed the paperwork to the side of her desk.

He didn’t want to fail. If he was blessed with a family, he wanted to protect it. Sometimes he lacked trust in himself to do that given how he allowed things to play out with Rukia. Nevertheless, he wanted to teach his children how to stand for things in life, and how to accept responsibility for their actions. He had much experience with owning up to his faults and though it was not easy, it always rewarded him to maintain his integrity. He considered how long it took for him to do the right thing by Sakura, and didn’t want such a mistake to plague the next Kuchiki leader.

“I stopped thinking about being a father quite some time ago. I just ignorantly thought that I could. Since I agreed to remarry, it is all I’ve thought about. That and being a husband again. I just want my child to be loved and strong. I want him to rely on me and be a man of honor and pride. As for a wife, I do not want to burden her. My advisor tells me I’m not the easiest man to deal with.”

She shook her head. When did he become so melodramatic? The objective of marriage, to her, was for spouses to shoulder each other’s burdens. She knew that Byakuya was strong and though he appeared to have an infinite reserve of strength, he, like anyone, needed someone to pour into him.

“I’ve often wondered, Byakuya,” she caught his eyes. “If you constantly deposit into others, but they never give back to you, what happens when you’re empty? Have you ever considered that maybe you’re empty and just need to be filled again?”

_“I am very sorry I couldn’t return Byakuya-sama’s love.”_

He had not stopped to think of how he focused more on what he would have to put into a marriage instead of imagining what he could get out of one. When Hisana died, and asked him to find and care for her sister, she apologized for burdening him in the wake of her impending death. When she passed on so did his dream of someone who could return his love. Sakura watched him mull over her words, and brushed his _haori_ as she passed the chair he sat in. If remarrying gave him a partner that reduced his strain by taking some of what he carried off of his shoulders, she could think of nothing better for him.

“And besides, she would have to be an idiot to refuse being _your_ wife,” she continued. “You’ve got more than half of the women in the _Seireitei_ losing it over you. I’m sure she would be proud to throw around ‘Lady Kuchiki’ as a title,” she laughed, hoping to lighten the mood.

The faintest pink dusted his cheeks and she slapped herself in the middle of the forehead. Her objective wasn’t to disconcert him. She joined her hands together and bowed deeply, face heated with shame. There he was apologizing to her finally, and confiding his fears, and she was making jokes. She continued to mutter how sorry she was, and bow. He walked over to her and placed a hand atop her head. She flinched from the contact.

He moved his hand to rest on her shoulder and she felt a rush of heat on the back of her neck. Their reunion was beginning to drain her as he continued to strum different strings within her, causing her to experience a rollercoaster of feelings. She stepped aside and his hand fell away from her. She attempted to retreat but he blocked her. She refused to look up to him. A million curses choked her. _Why is he so close? Why does it bother me so much? What the hell is he doing?_ She had faced countless hollows and enemies throughout her career but she was unable to face her temperamental childhood partner in crime. The entire notion was preposterous. _Sakura, relax._ She took another step to the side and both of his hands captured her shoulders, the clang of metal rattling her senses. He unclasped pieces of her armor, and she wanted to liquefy and ooze right out of the room. He carefully placed the items down and nodded his satisfaction.

“It is difficult to think with all of that making such a commotion,” he said.

He wanted her at ease. He had no right to expect her to quickly put off the shock of them coming together after so much time, but her armor was loud and it concealed too much. He could tell she felt safe in it. Such guarding was not necessary, he thought. At least, he didn’t want it to be true while she was in his presence. She held her breath again. Her fingers absently reached for the discarded metal, but he took her hand, making her stiffen.

“You –why,” she stammered, snatching her hand away from him. She stopped to collect her thoughts and chided herself for being a stuttering mess. “Who the hell do you think you are, Byakuya? What? Now that I’ve accepted your extremely late apology you think everything is just fine again? Do not think more of yourself than you should. If I need any help with my armor, I will ask!”

Sakura fumed, scrambling to decide her next course of action. Byakuya sucked his teeth and dismissed her pitiful indignation. She had already shown her hand. Even still, he was not able to fall prey to her anger. He wondered whom she tried to fool. He crossed his arms, completely unmoved by her ranting. _Such arrogance, she thought._ She pointed to the door then collected his things. Shoving his captain’s robe and _Senbonzakura_ into his arms, she started pushing him out. He shifted his weight so that it was difficult for her to move him.

“Sakura, wait!” he protested. “Please accept my apology.”

“I have had enough of your apologies today, Captain Kuchiki. Get out! I have work to do.”

He was _Captain Kuchiki_ again. He smirked. He slipped away from her and put his belongings down in an armchair. She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. She reached for the door handle.

“Fine. Feel free to stay if you’re wanting to shirk your responsibilities for the day. _I’ll_ leave. And if you plan on lingering here, _do not_ touch my tea. You were never that great at making it yourself and I doubt your skills have improved,” she said, opening the door.

She was still quite the amusing little thing, he realized. He remembered how she would take a jab at his skills or lack whenever she was “upset.” Still wearing a smirk, he found an opening.

“You aren’t going to be this way if we fight once we are married, are you?” he asked.

Her grip tightened on the doorknob and she slowly turned back to him mouthing an inaudible “ _what_?” She gently closed the door and focused her wide eyes on his calm ones. He offered the faintest smile and wondered if he’d smiled more in just the small amount of time that they talked than he had in years. Her lips quivered but couldn’t offer up any words. He nodded his head slowly to help her accept what he said as he moved closer to her.

“I did not know how to feel about it at first for obvious reasons,” he said. “You and I are everything except what we once were. Though now, I feel as if only seconds have elapsed since we were last together.”

She attempted to steady her _reiatsu_ that gushed forth again. She was a captain for all things holy, but she had lost control of herself like a rookie. It was despicable. He swallowed her with his energy, once more, and she wanted to hate how good he felt. He enjoyed consuming her with his power, reaching deeper and deeper.

“I was challenged to face my actions,” he said, trying to restrain himself from her depths as he waited for her anxiety to dissipate. “You’ve always meant a great deal to me, and I know I am not nothing to you, Sakura. It has plagued me; I must admit; my thick-headedness. How could I maintain that I care but let things end between us in such a cowardly way? When I began believing that perhaps, I still possessed a part of your heart, I could accept you as my wife for you surely still possess a part of mine. Can you accept me as your husband or am I being presumptuous?”

She tried to throw her guard up as he continued pouring himself into her. The intensity of the connection made her lightheaded. Along with his words, she was stupefied. _Marriage?_ There was a time when she imagined being his wife. She would braid a crown of flowers as they played in her families’ gardens. He would carry her piggyback and they pretended they were on their honeymoon. As they entered adulthood, she joked about marrying him but keeping her surname. He stated that it was simply “out of the question.” Finally, the pretending stopped. He found someone else. She told herself that only his happiness mattered.

“Forgive me if I am suffering a bit,” she glanced at the bottle of sake at the bar that was suddenly very attractive. “I –,” she paused. “Tell me the truth. Is this just your _duty_? Am I just some convenient choice because I can’t think of anything worse than being an obligation to you.”

* * *

_His father planned an elaborate birthday party for him. He had come of age and all the noble clans were invited to celebrate the occasion. Sakura had gone away with her father on a mission in the World of the Living. It annoyed him. She wasn’t a member of the Gotei nor was she a Shinigami student. His father and grandfather never even discussed Gotei business with him but she was allowed to go on missions. At this rate, she would surpass him and he’d never hear the end of her gloating._

_He walked outside to find many adults drinking, laughing, and dancing gracefully. He scanned the room and found his father talking to the Tsukōji head. Immediately, he looked for Sakura. A sudden tap on his shoulder startled him. She and her father were not due back to the Soul Society for weeks. She explained that though that was true, she could not miss his birthday. She looked different, he thought.  Maybe more mature. Even more beautiful._

_“That trip must have been too difficult for you to handle,” he shrugged his shoulders. “You look older.”_

_Her face reddened and she slapped him on the chest for the offhand comment._

_“Hello to you too, Byakuya,” she hissed. “Happy birthday, you idiot.”_

_She turned to leave. He laughed and called after her, mocking her for being so easily excitable. He was happy to have her back. When she was close, things were right again.  
_

* * *

“As you said, it is my duty to leave a successor, but you are not my duty, Sakura. There is no one else that I would take as my wife, but I understand if you feel differently. The choice is entirely yours. I will not force it on you.”

She thought of how weird her father had been acting. _Sneaky old man._ It’d grown easier each day to carry on as if nothing had ever manifested between her and Byakuya. In captains’ meetings, they stood directly across from each other, and he always took his orders in with his eyes closed, ice encapsulating him. Even when directly questioned, he spoke with his eyes closed. He never came close to slipping up and looking at her. It tore her a part a little every time. She felt Captains Ukitake and Kyōraku’s stares. If she really concentrated, she even heard a tired sigh from the Head Captain.

After so many moments built upon each other, creating the wall, between them, he so easily tore down that wall. If they could simply go back to how they were, why had they wasted so much time? But it wasn’t simple. He still had her heart, but her trust was another matter entirely. Marriage was another matter entirely. With their relationship in such a fragile state, she feared that such a decision could break them once and for all.

“Byakuya, I– I,”

A hell butterfly entered through the window and found them. She extended a finger and the gentle messenger rested on it. The trial deciding the fate of her problematic freshmen was coming to a close and a sentence would be decided by a judge from Central 46 along with Head Captain Yamamoto. Her presence was requested. She groaned. If they were about to make the decision, why did she need to be there? The pomp and circumstance of her position really annoyed her at times but she thought of the students. People made mistakes. Youth was supposed to be the best time to make them. If the students’ careers were going to be ruined over something she considered small in the grand scheme of things, she did want to be there. She wanted to appeal on their behalf just in case, hoping it wouldn’t come to that. She nodded her receipt of the message and the butterfly left. Byakuya cursed the interruption.

“I—I have to go. A group of freshmen, scoundrels to put it more accurately, are having their fates decided as we speak,” she said. “After that, I have dinner with the lieutenants to thank them for their hard work this week. We will discuss this when I return?”

He simply nodded. Though he was barely holding it together as he awaited her answer, he maintained himself. She grabbed a few items and he gathered his things as well. He reached for the door and sighed.

“Sakura,” he started. “I look forward to seeing you later. I’ve missed you.”

He left and she felt him flash away. Feeling that he was quite distant, she released the tears she was too proud to let fall while with him. She glanced at the armor that he relieved her of. It gleamed so brightly against the light, her eyes hurt.

* * *

She arrived at the hearing after collecting herself and spotted the sulking group of ruffians waiting outside of the courtroom. She shook her head and walked over to them. They righted themselves quickly, heads held high, and chests sticking out. She stood in front of the four of them all sitting on a bench. They looked at her with wide eyes like children and she could see the regret written on their faces. They were all boys from East _Rukongai_ that had been friends since childhood. Obviously, they dreamed of forging a better path for themselves by deciding to be Soul Reapers.

“Answer me, each of you. What is the meaning of your behavior? What was your goal?” she asked.

They bowed their heads once more and she exerted her _reiatsu_ , instilling reverence in them. They lifted their heads quickly. One boy, a frail blond with hands red from pressing them together for so long, raised a hand. She nodded, granting him the okay to speak.

“Captain, we lost a bet with another group in Class B. We know it was wrong; what we did. We just didn’t want to back out and look like cowards.”

 _Boys and their pride._ She crouched down so they would not have to look up to her. She considered how to address their juvenile definition of strength before speaking.

“Listen to me, gentlemen. It is never cowardly to do the right thing and keep oneself out of potentially harmful situations. It’s called integrity, and in this business, it’s called staying alive. Tell me, if you were in a battle in which you considered yourself sorely outmatched, and an opportunity to retreat with your life presented itself, would you remain and die like a dog just to prove yourself? Trust your instincts the next time you are faced with a choice with an unclear answer. I’ve learned you cannot fail that way.”

They bowed their heads again like sheep. She stood up and sighed. A clerk came outside to announce that the trial was back in session and they all entered the room. She announced her presence and sat in the very back. The Head Captain explained that their actions could have compromised sensitive information retained by Twelfth Company. He let them know that such insolence would not be tolerated, but in the end, ruled to only remove them from advanced placement studies as punishment. They were assigned to environmental health and safety training directed by Captain Kurotsuchi. Fear became them, and Sakura covered her mouth to stop from laughing. Old Man Yama had a twisted sense of humor since surely, his judgement was worse than expulsion. The boys thanked him for his graciousness and promised to prove themselves. They left quickly and returned to their dorms.

* * *

Sakura decided to walk back to her division’s barracks. The more time she could waste, the better. She needed to think. Byakuya had proposed to her and it took all she had to keep herself above ground. Just accepting that they were even on speaking terms again was difficult enough. She felt like disappearing. Before she could ponder her predicament further, Rangiku was beside her. It was almost time to head to dinner. She shook her head at the irony of it all. She dreaded that damned dinner but now it could not be a more advantageous distraction. Time had slipped away from her and she was still dressed in her uniform. The lieutenant protested that she could not go to dinner dressed such a way.

“Fine, Rangiku. Let me change,” she slipped back into her office and looked in her closet. Rangiku invited herself in.

“Captain, look at all of the pretty clothes! You could live in your office!”

Sakura rolled her eyes, and pulled out some items. Often, she never left the confines of her office because of her workload so it made sense to have a change of clothing or several as was the case. She opted for an outfit that she told her third seat to pick up in the World of the Living. She shimmied an emerald, floor-length dress with capped sleeves and a scoop neck on, adjusting the material underneath before looking in the mirror. Rangiku pulled a bottle of perfume that matched her mood, and borrowed some jewelry for her own outfit. Sakura didn’t bother feeling offended. She knew the outgoing lieutenant would put the items to good use. Instead, she took one last look at herself, satisfied with her appearance.

They headed out to the West Gate of the _Seireitei_ as Sakura explained she couldn’t join them for any after-partying in the _Rukongai_. Rangiku pouted that she looked too pretty to just go out to eat, but was happy enough that the captain even agreed to attend the dinner. Tōshirō Hitsugaya passed them and scoffed.

“Rangiku, I trust that you will not drink yourself into oblivion tonight,” he said.

They prattled on about whether it was okay for her to drink heavily. It was the weekend, she argued. She needed to work on kicking her habit, he spat. She asked him to join them. For the hundredth time, he refused. Sakura lost her patience. Her thoughts ran laps around her mind, and she just wanted to eat and drink something before the weight of her stress crushed her.

“Let’s go quickly, Rangiku, before we are late,” she interrupted. “Good night, Captain Hitsugaya.”

* * *

The ladies arrived at the restaurant and everyone on the guest list had already been seated. Kyōraku chaperoned again along with Ukitake. They didn’t need to draw numbers this year since the other captains were busy or not interested. Shunsui passed a sake bottle around. Ikkaku and Yumichika were there as expected although uninvited. Sakura became wooden at the sight of Renji. _Does he know?_ She sighed heavily, trying to steady herself. Jūshirō beamed when he noticed the Seventh Division’s captain. He figured if he could take time to get out and enjoy the city, anyone could. Rangiku congratulated herself and her powers of persuasion, letting the older captain know that she was the reason Sakura was there. Sakura elbowed her, and reached for the bottle in the hands of Ukitake’s already inebriated co-chaperone. She hugged Jūshirō, asked him to try harder to address her as Captain Tsukōji instead of “Sakura-chan,” and sat down beside him. They ordered far too many things, and discussed the first week of Intake. She poured her third drink and stared into the cup before downing it.

“Yo! What brings all of you guys here?” asked a voice she did not know.

Ichigo and Rukia opted to eat out for dinner so that Ichigo could familiarize himself with the social environment of the _Seireitei_. They were also still avoiding Byakuya. Rangiku explained the purpose of the gathering, and asked them to join. Sakura smirked at the lieutenant’s looseness with other people’s money. All manners as usual, Jūshirō asked if it was okay for the pair to join them, and she nodded after finishing another drink. Ichigo pulled out the chair next to Sakura for Rukia to sit down. Sakura took a deep breath. Rukia tried to stop herself from staring.

“Good evening, Captain Tsukōji. It’s lovely to see you. You look amazing,” Rukia smiled.

Another breath.

“It is wonderful to see you, Rukia. I think I’ve picked up your affinity for clothes from the Living World. You bring back such beautiful things,” Sakura returned.

She always thought it strange that Rukia looked so much like Hisana. She suspected they were related somehow. When news of the girl’s adoption reached her ears, by way of gossip, she was relieved to know that Byakuya was not alone. The young woman was exactly what he needed to loosen up again and gain renewed purpose. She also figured Rukia’s new friend had something to do with it.

Ichigo picked up on the Tsukōji name and tapped Rukia’s arm. She glared at him, and he sunk down into his chair. They ordered entrees. Shunsui urged Ichigo to have a drink, pointing out that it was the “Soul Society. No one would know.” Ichigo swallowed a few sips and grabbed his chest. It was the first time he ever had alcohol. Rukia laughed at how much of a lightweight he was definitely going to be.

“Captain Tsukōji, I want to commend you on the great ideas you came up with this semester. I’m having a lot of fun getting to know the students and helping out,” Renji said. “Especially since my captain left me in charge,” he added confidently with extra emphasis intended for Rukia and Ichigo’s ears.

Rukia offered a sarcastic thumbs-up and Ichigo waved off his gloating.

“Great job, buddy! Do your best! If you screw up, Byakuya is going to have your ass,” the deputy soul reaper raised his cup at the redhead and sneered.

Rukia tugged Ichigo’s ear, reminding him to watch his language in front of her esteemed superiors. Jushiro dismissed it. Shunsui was too drunk to care and was never really much for etiquette anyway. Yachiru banged a fist against the table repeatedly. Sakura poured another drink. She caught the attention of the waiter and inquired about the tiny girl’s desserts. He assured her they would be right out. Yachiru came over to Sakura and snuggled against her arm.

“Can I have as many as I want?” she asked with excited eyes.

“As many as you can eat,” Sakura confirmed.

The pink-haired lieutenant hurried back to her chair as a cart of desserts rolled out. Rukia smiled. She felt Sakura’s _reiatsu_ giving off a hint of anxiety. The alcohol she quickly disposed of probably didn’t aid the unease she sensed in her. Still, she was poised and regal. She maintained perfect posture and consumed her food with feather-light dexterity and quiet mastication. Rukia did not often attend noble affairs due to lack of interest and not wanting to embarrass her brother so it was her first time witnessing the refinement that came with aristocracy from a woman.

“Eat your food, midget. You’re staring,” Ichigo said, casually pointing to her plate. Rukia straightened up and took one more quick glance at the Tsukōji princess as she brought a spoonful of soup to her lips. It was like a dance.

“Sakura, I got a question for you,” Ichigo continued. “When I was in the Soul Society to save Rukia, I don’t recall ever seeing you one time, not even when Aizen was outed as a traitor. Are you a new captain?”

Rukia turned towards him slowly. _Ichigo, you fucking moron._ He returned her look with one of confusion and shrugged his shoulders. A brief interlude of awe visited Sakura before she gathered her bearings. A light blush rosied her cheeks. Never had she been called by her first name by any man who did not know her well.

“Ichigo Kurosaki,” Sakura addressed him. “I can finally behold the man who is the reason why I was trapped in Hell. It is a pleasure to meet you at last,” she leaned over the table, looking past Rukia to see him better.

Ichigo abruptly swallowed his half-chewed food. Rukia was puzzled. Sakura narrowed her eyes at the two of them before explaining. After escaping Hell, she read several reports and watched video surveillance of the newbie _Shinigami_ who stormed the _Seireitei_. His power impressed her and she wondered if she would ever meet him.

“Uh, when did I— I swear it wasn’t me,” he protested with a shaky grip on his chopsticks.

“Oh, it was you. I assure you,” she started. “To first answer your question; no. I am not a new captain. When you valiantly broke into the _Seireitei_ to rescue our dear Rukia, I was not in the Soul Society at the time, but away in Hell testing the effectiveness of the new _Gūhatsu Jigoku no Mon_ , a type of gate that allows _Shinigami_ that oversee Hell to enter. I discovered I could get into Hell with it, but not out, and because of the stir you caused, my rescue calls were ignored and I was trapped there.”

Rukia cringed but was relieved that she could not sense any anger in Sakura’s words. Renji burst into a fit of laughter earning a jab in the face from his childhood friend. Ichigo glanced at him with as much disgust as he could manage, then turned back to Sakura and bowed his head. He thought that this was a fine example of why people thought he was an idiot.

“There is no need to apologize,” she said. “After the third call was ignored, I decided it best to just wait. Although it was not pleasant to remain there longer than necessary, I did gather important information that may be of use to the Soul Society in the future. I cannot blame you as your mission was one I fully supported. Unfortunately, I couldn’t convey that to you in person. When I finally returned home, I was briefed on all the mayhem you caused, as well as Sosuke Aizen’s treachery, but I soon became busy giving a report of my analysis of the new gate. By the time I finished, you and your comrades were already gone.”

Ichigo voiced another apology and everyone returned to their merriment. As the hours rolled on towards the restaurant’s closing, little by little, the party dwindled down. Rangiku suggested something known as “reverse happy hour,” one of the many concepts the Soul Society took from the World of the Living, and took the rest of the crowd with her. Sakura moved to the bar as the waiter prepared the check. Ichigo and Rukia lingered behind.

“If you want to know if Byakuya’s talked to her already, just ask her. I’m tired and a little drunk I think,” Ichigo nudged her.

“Quiet, you fool! I just— I do want to know. It’s just none of my business. I tried to pick up hints from her throughout the night, but she didn’t give up anything.”

“Maybe _because_ it’s not your business,” he yawned.

He stuck his tongue out at her and she swiftly kicked him in his shin. Sakura turned to look at them and sighed. Obviously, they knew about the proposal. What other reason did they have for still being there when everyone else had already left? She felt them approaching and prepared herself to be questioned. The waiter handed her the bill. Ichigo glanced at it and thought his soul had left his body before realizing that he was already a soul. Sakura looked at him like he sprouted a second head, and handed the payment and tip to the waiter, letting him know to keep the change.

“Are— are you serious? That bill is insane!” Ichigo had lost the color in his face.

“You are a strange one, Ichigo Kurosaki,” she laughed. “It is impolite to focus on such things. Besides, the total of the bill is far less than I expected. It is no matter.”

Ichigo shook his head realizing that he would never understand rich people. Rukia ignored him. She was too busy struggling to find out if her brother was going to get married or not. Sakura figured there was no point in hiding anything.

“He asked me, Rukia,” she confessed, relieving the seatless officer of her stress.

The young Kuchiki felt her heart skip a beat. She spent the entire evening trying to read Sakura, but was the one who had been picked apart. She desperately wanted to know the captain’s answer for her brother. Sakura explained that a series of interruptions had stalled her decision.

“Forgive my being out of line, Captain, but—but do you think you’ll accept my brother’s proposal? I can’t help but ask! I—I,” her voice faltered. “Nii-sama, he –”

Sakura sat down at the bar and rubbed her temples. The effects of her drinking set in rapidly, and she tried to massage the throbbing away. Tears burned her eyes again and she held her head down. She hated to appear so weak in front of them but there was too much on her mind to care. Ichigo tugged Rukia’s arm and shook his head, advising her against pressuring Sakura. He felt the concern plaguing her heart.

“You care about Byakuya, don’t you?” he asked.

Sakura only nodded. Ichigo and Rukia smiled.

“I just want him to be happy. So happy,” she said before steadying herself with a deep breath. “He deserves it. However, I do not know how or even if we can have happiness together the way… we used to.”

She was tired, unsure, and trying to hope.

“Captain Tsukōji,” Rukia started. “I think you and Nii-sama have been given a second chance. Please don’t let fear get in the way.”

The odd couple, that she was instantly fond of, bid her goodnight and returned to Thirteenth Company’s barracks where they stayed while everything sorted itself out regarding the future of the Kuchikis. Sakura sought out Byakuya’s _reiatsu_. He was still awake even at such a late hour. He was waiting for her. She hated to prolong things, but she still needed to think, and sober up. Everything in her little world was happening too fast. The reflection of the moon shined on the water under the _Seireitei’s_ bridge that led back to the barracks. It had a cold iridescence that strangely warmed her heart. In a few flashes, she arrived outside of the large gate fortressing the Kuchiki manor. A guardsman verified her identity with one look and immediately opened the gate. A small group of servants rushed towards her and bowed.

“Lady Tsukōji! Pardon our insolence, milady, but is something wrong? It is quite late,” the guardsman asked.

She asked them to rise. They slowly came up.

“I simply need to speak with Lord Byakuya,” she said.

Two men led the way and three followed after her. She took in the sight of the grounds and spied a few changes. There were many more trees. More cherry blossom trees, she realized. She smiled. Before she could register it, they stopped walking. The guardsman left her inside of the library and went to fetch Byakuya. When he arrived, he watched as she checked the titles of the books within her reach. Taken by her appearance, he observed her a while longer without making his presence known. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and straight. _It is still long. Even longer, he noticed._ The dress she wore complimented her skin just barely kissed by sunrays. The garment trailed a bit behind her. His breath hitched and he cleared his throat, startling her.

“I was beginning to think you were going to make me wait until tomorrow,” he said.

She turned to face him with a smirk. The servants closed the door. There were thousands of books and scrolls lining the walls from the floor to the ceiling. It was always her favorite room at the manor.

“Rukia came to the restaurant where we dined this evening. She was with Kurosaki. They are quite interesting together,” she said. “She looks so much like Hisana, Byakuya. Is it hard for you?”

She pulled a book and thumbed through it trying to distract herself, and he wondered if she prepared him for a refusal. He was surprised by how shaken the prospect of that left him.

“It was difficult for a long time. I could not look at her until I was ordered to apprehend her from the World of the Living. It is there that I met Ichigo Kurosaki,” he explained.

Sakura nodded. Rukia also knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of Byakuya’s conflicting emotions.

“He is something. I think he and Rukia enjoy a relationship similar to what we had. They understand each other very well. It was nice to witness them interact. She said you and I have been given a second chance,” she moved closer to him.

He clenched his teeth. Those two could not be discreet if someone paid them to be. She knew he was annoyed and broke up the moment with her laughter. He reached for her hands. Once again, the sudden contact made her jumpy but she soon relaxed in his touch. He gently rubbed circles into her soft palms with his thumbs. _Damn him for this._

“What do you think about that?” he asked.

She had almost been worn down by their distance. As much as she loved her life and relished her success and status as a captain, there was something hollow about it all. It often felt bittersweet without the one she had always shared everything with. At night, the realization of her loneliness came in waves. In the beginning, she reached out to feel his spiritual pressure, and it was as if they were in sync. She knew he also felt alone, and incredibly grieved. Trying to sleep was futile because without fail, she’d meet him in her dreams. In time, there were hundreds of ways detailing their reunion gently stored in her memory; so many different outcomes she imagined that were nothing close to reality. She thought she tucked it all away, but it was bubbling to the surface now, threatening to overwhelm her.

“I have waited to be near you like this,” she confessed. “I wanted to be strong and forget you. I tried very hard, but in the end, you are a part of my soul. I never expected an apology much less a proposal but it is our fate, isn’t it? The way of the nobility.”

She pulled away. She hated being so vulnerable with him. It used to be as easy as breathing but now it felt like there was no air at all. He hoped that she believed him when he told her that his proposal was not because he considered her to be his duty.

“I just,” she hesitated. “I have doubts and I do not think that is a good foundation for a marriage.”

He vowed never to go back on his word again. One last promise made after apologizing to Rukia. He did all he could, in a way that made him comfortable and form that she could accept, to prove himself as a brother to her; someone that she could depend on and trust. He wanted to be that and more for Sakura again. It was the only way to repair what he had broken. It was the only type of husband she deserved.

“Sakura, if you are worried –”

“Please let me finish,” she interrupted, turning back to him. His mouth closed quickly, amusing her. “I do not think that doubt is solid ground for a marriage, but I have never been married. I don’t know that there is _anything_ about it to be sure of, but despite everything, even still, I am sure of how much you mean to me so yes; I will marry you, Byakuya Kuchiki.”

Time moved forward but destiny moved with it.

 


	5. A New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: reiatsu: spiritual pressure  
> shihakushō: Garment of Dead Souls  
> haori: robe, Captain’s robe in this context  
> kidō: demon arts  
> hakama: pants, basically  
> zanjutsu: art or way of the sword  
> hakuda: hand-to-hand combat  
> zanpakutō: soul cutter  
> bakudō: way of binding  
> Kokusen no shi: a Bakudō I’ve made up that basically means “a million wires binding.” The spell is cast by holding the right hand out. A greenish-black light emits from the hand, creating a field of energy around the opponent. Black wires spring from the ground and envelop the target from head to toe.  
> Kanagaki: the name of Sakura’s zanpakutō. It doesn’t mean anything officially, but the meaning in this story is “Blade of many dimensions.”  
> Kanagaki Kōtsumetsu: completely made up joining together or words but the meaning here is “Blade that changes dimensions.”  
> shikai: first zanpakutō release  
> bankai: second zanpakutō release  
> hadō: offensive kidō  
> Sōkatsui: Blue Fire, Crash Down, a popular spell in Bleach  
> kaidou: medicinal kidō

 

It took a handful of moments for her words to reach him, to claw out the notion that his life was just a holding cell for monotony and despair, to bring to the surface his desire for a family that had been dominated by his captaincy and countless responsibilities, and to uncover the ease that he missed having with her. He would devote himself to her completely. He swore it. He just stood there, thinking over her decision in that way of his; eyebrows knit together and an expression that said nothing in particular. Despite accepting his proposal, she still felt unsure of her place in his life. Being engaged didn’t erase the years she spent rationalizing and trying to understand his choices in order to deny that he had broken her heart. It changed nothing, yet somehow, transformed everything in an instant.

She realized how much she wanted to be with him again just like this; close, uncertain of his exact thoughts, but sure, beyond the shadow of a doubt, of how he made her feel. The steel in his gaze, the softness in his voice, and the euphoria of his _reiatsu_ reminded her of every good thing they shared, but it had to be some sort of a joke. She unraveled in front of him. Her vulnerability seeped out like stubborn droplets from a tap forcing her need to know if she would wake up from this dream. Had she not laid her puerile fantasies to rest? She knew full well the demands on his head as a nobleman. He needed a wife to give him a child. Yes, he said the perfect words, offered an irresistible apology, and disarmed her to within an inch of her life, but to what end? She used to believe that things were black and white. The two of them were either meant to be together or they weren’t.

He married Hisana. _They weren’t._

He cut her out of his life with a dull blade, and she never truly recovered. _They weren’t._

But then, he stood in her office after the years dragged on like a never-ending filibuster. He wanted to fix what he shattered. He proposed. A second chance presented itself. _Were they?_

Were they still meant for each other despite everything that changed them, and tried to wipe them from her memory? Fate didn’t even have the decency to leave a footnote, a reference that they were once _something_ to each other. She hated not knowing _._ She made a career out of being aware of things; big changes and subtle nuances, but she couldn’t understand what they were _now._ She wondered why she even accepted his proposal. He’d given it to her as an option. She could have declined, and returned to her life uninterrupted, but she still couldn’t put him away even after everything. It boggled her mind. It defied all logical reasoning that he still possessed her so entirely. Yes, she used to believe that things were black and white until the two came together and left her wading through the gray.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, reading her like he always could.

She looked away and considered her next words.

“Are you sure about this? Getting married? I know that I just accepted your proposal and I’m sure I’m confusing you right now. It’s just that I –”

He pulled her close and her rambling stopped. She softened against him, mind hazy, and diplomacy wavering. He was certain of the many contradictory feelings slamming against her. She barely had time to think of what answer to give him. He’d already welcomed the possibility of a future with her again the moment Mamuda suggested her as his bride. He just protested it for her sake. He had no right to expect her to be onboard with it. He moved in a way to be eye-level with her. As much as he hated it, Ichigo’s words played in his head like a broken record.

_“She means something to you no matter how much you try to hide it.”_

“Sakura, I want to be your husband. I have since you first arrived to this estate with your father. I know I’ve made a mess of everything. I hate that you’re doubting yourself and me.”

He glided a thumb up and down her cheek. She sighed and fisted a hand in the sleeve of his _shihakushō_. More than needing the reassurance that he was choosing _her_ , she needed to accept how much she wanted that to be the case. She squinted away the redness that colored her face as she wriggled away from him.

“Hm?” he tried to move her head to face him.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “Thank you for saying that. I needed to hear it. I do want to marry you, but if I am perfectly honest, a part of me wishes I didn’t. It would serve you right if I rejected you, but I can’t. I suppose it’s a good thing for me not to hold onto anger and pettiness if I’m to be your wife, no?”

“It sounds like you still care for me,” he said, trying not to be smug, but failing.

“How long do I have to change my mind?” she joked, delivering a weak blow to his shoulder.

_Two months?_

With so much to be done, how did anyone think that a noble wedding could be pulled off in such little time? Byakuya approved the date without giving thought to details like the engagement announcement, wedding invitations, showers, the main event itself, and any celebrations to follow. Watching Sakura mull things over as she paced a trail into the floor intrigued him. She wanted nothing short of perfection, and she couldn’t be more adorable. He offered to push back the date to accommodate her desires, but never one to run from a challenge, she advised him to be ready because she _would_ find a way to make it all happen over the next sixty days with his help.

“Sakura, the Kuchiki and Tsukōji servants are more than equipped to plan everything.”

“They will certainly execute matters, but it’s _our_ wedding, Byakuya. You don’t want to be involved?”

The pout she wore almost couldn’t be detected, but he saw it, and his heart jellied.

“Of course,” he conceded. “Go on.”

She smiled and continued mapping out the order in which they should handle things. Her ability to identify needs and solutions impressed him. He credited her years of experience devising battle strategies _._ A moment of panic took over, however, as he realized the number of things that needed to be done, but he promised to get as much sleep as possible to prepare himself. A servant started a fire and served tea as they talked well into the already-late night. Her surname needed to be changed first. It took at least a month for official records to reflect it so they agreed to take care of it at the beginning of the week. The engagement party had to be scheduled. Her father would jump at the opportunity to play the role of host so the Tsukōji manor would serve as the venue. She fired off names for the guest list causing his heart to palpitate.

“Must we really invite _every_ captain?” he asked.

“Well, there are only eight captains left besides us. Ukitake and Kyōraku Senpai must come as well as the head captain, and Unohana. It would be rude to just invite them. I’d like to ask Captain Soi Fon to lend us a small group from the Stealth Force for security. Since there will be many high-profile guests, I don’t think our home security is up to the task so she gets an invitation. Hitsugaya and Kurotsuchi will probably decline anyway, and Kenpachi is a friend. He has to come.”

Byakuya’s head snapped up at the mention of Kenpachi Zaraki. True, he had been out of Sakura’s life for some time, but he still observed her even if she thought that he couldn’t care less. He never witnessed any particularly close moments between her and his thorn-in-the-backside of a rival.

“Friend, you say?”

“Yes,” she answered, handing him the updated guest list. “He and I often train together. The Captain Commander entrusted me to square off with him from time to time to make sure his _reiatsu_ stays in check. Overtime, we became good friends.”

Byakuya’s grip tightened on his ink brush so much he thought he would break it in two. He inhaled a deep breath and froze over. He didn’t go looking for reasons to detest Zaraki, but they so generously popped up. He noted her explanation and counted on butting heads with the Eleventh Division’s captain soon. He perused the list one last time and gave it back to her with his sign-off. After several unsuccessful minutes of trying to calm down, he figured he should speak now or forever hold his peace.

“I do not understand how you can consider someone like Squad Eleven’s captain a friend, Sakura. It’s inconceivable,” he said frankly.

She examined his face, realizing how much the mention of the man incensed him. Honestly, it tickled her because she’d witnessed the same look on Kenpachi’s face.

“ _Kenpachi_ is all of the things everyone thinks he is, yes, but he is also quite profound. I’ve learned many things from him.”

His patience reached its end. She knew the details of his _relationship_ with Kenpachi. For all intents and purposes, they hated each other. However, Byakuya didn’t know the true reason why Kenpachi gave him so much hell and threatened him whenever he had a chance. Years ago, while training with him, he asked her why she performed so poorly on the battlefield. He could smell distraction from a mile away. She revealed the history and breakdown of her relationship with Byakuya, and from that moment, Kenpachi decided that he didn’t like “the stuck-up pussy” who turned his back on a friend. Honestly, revealing her engagement to him made her nervous since he tended to overreact on the rare occasion that he concerned himself with something other than fighting.

“You are more than entitled to have friends even if I question your choices,” Byakuya said, putting aside his difference of opinion.

She mouthed a _whatever_ , and walked over to him, dragging the train of her dress on the plush area rug. With a smirk and no warning, he snaked his arms around her. She rested her head against his chest taking in his scent. _Has he always had such an effect on me?_ She swayed from side to side, and his thoughts of Zaraki evaporated in the presence of the heat that she ignited in him. He matched her movements and they took a few steps across the floor.

“You’re still a good dancer,” she whispered.

He hoped that she wouldn’t suggest dancing at the party. They broke from each other after a while, and went back to their planning. Once they were satisfied with the to-do list, fatigue arrested her, prompting her to acknowledge the time.

“Goodness, I’ve kept you up all night with my prattling, haven’t I?”

“I don’t mind,” he said, dismissing a yawn. “I enjoy the sound of your voice.”

Her face went red again and she nodded awkwardly. She stood up to leave and he escorted her outside of the compound. He held out her _haori_ and slipped it onto her. His hands paused on her shoulders for a while, and he laced his fingers in her hair when she released her ponytail. That familiar feeling of warmth returned, and she put some space between them. Facing him one last time with a shaky hand behind her head, she bid him goodnight. He went stiff as he realized his behavior. He had touched her without considering himself or her more than once and had difficulty finding fault with it. She didn’t even require a full day to put him out of sorts.

* * *

They met early at the Noble Registry to start the process of changing her name. Byakuya sat inside of the lobby, grateful that the registrar agreed to see them without an appointment. The secretary chattered on about his and Sakura’s perfect timing. The office had many newborn babies to register and would normally not be able to accommodate a name change on such short notice. The mention of children made him think of how he would soon be back with Sakura documenting the birth of their son. _Will we conceive quickly_? _Will it even be a boy?_ He was taken aback by his own modesty as it dawned on him that at some point in the future, Sakura would be pregnant with his child. Before he could ponder the ins and outs of it, his fiancée arrived with her father.

He stood to greet them, bowing to Tsekō and struggling to decide which gesture to bestow upon Sakura. He dispelled the visual images that had come flooding in. She asked if he was alright and somehow, he managed a nod. Dumbfounded and hard at work to fix his mind on something else, his eyes faltered from hers. She shook her head and raised a suspicious eyebrow at him before walking over to the front desk to speak with the secretary.

“It always takes so long to handle things here,” Tsekō patted him on the back to pull him from his stupor. “Did you know that I came here with your father to register your name when you were born? Sōjun was always so mild-mannered but I thought he was going to have the head of Kaien Shiba who insisted that he and Miyako were first in line to get their marriage license. We’d been waiting for two hours and you slept the entire time until suddenly, Kaien was in your father’s face saying that he was ‘next.’ I’ll never forget you waking up and giving him the harshest glare. Your father and I laughed for quite a while.”

“So what you’re saying is that man infuriated me before I could even speak?” Byakuya remarked, a little more surprised that Tsekō seemed to know that he had babies on his mind than the story about Kaien.

Sakura returned to let them know that the registrar would see them. They walked down a long hallway with pictures of every noble family hanging up. She stopped when she noticed a picture of her parents holding a baby. Her father touched the picture and recalled with fondness that it had been taken when they registered the birth of her oldest brother. The realization that her mother was not there to experience another monumental moment in her life hit suddenly. And Byakuya was all alone. At least she had her father. She suppressed her grief as they entered the registrar’s office. Her father and Byakuya signed the documents quickly, and exchanged words about noble, male things that didn’t interest her. The last paper needed her new signature. Her hand trembled as she held the brush. Soon, she would wake up in a new home, address a new man as her king, and adjust to a very different life. Tsekō took the brush from her and grabbed her hand.

“This changes many things, my darling, but not the two of us. I have loved you since you kicked against my hand from your mother’s womb, and I always will. It is okay,” he reassured her.

Byakuya brushed her knee and she cast a look in his direction. He met her with the same gentleness as her father and she found her strength. Reclaiming the brush, she gracefully wrote ‘Kuchiki Sakura,’ and watched the ink dry. Their business finished, her father left them, excited and ready to oversee the preparations for the engagement party.

“Well, there will be two Captain Kuchikis in the Gotei 13 soon,” Sakura said.

“Indeed,” Byakuya thought as they headed to the First Company’s barracks.

“Of the following captains, I’d like a volunteer to instruct next week’s _kidō_ courses up to the thirties level. A simple task, really. With Sosuke Aizen gone, we need to replace him,” the Captain Commander said as he kicked off new business at the Gotei weekly meeting. “Captains Soi Fon, Unohana, Kuchiki, Kyōraku, Hitsugaya, and Ukitake: which one of you would like to own this?”

Dead silence.

The selected captains exchanged equally disinterested looks. Captain Ukitake considered stepping up. He missed interacting with the students, but his illness had been flaring up more than usual, and he didn’t want to be a burden. Yamamoto choked the head of his staff, his anger palpable and growing with every annoying tick that sounded from the clock. He was close to choosing someone himself and figured Shunsui would be the best choice given how often he slacked off. Sakura felt his acrimony, and interjected before he had the chance to erupt.

“Captains, I would greatly appreciate one of you taking time from your very busy and important schedules to assist with this. Normally, I would have no issue standing in the gap, but I will be going over strategies for the winter war. This would be a wonderful opportunity for you to bond with and get to know the future soul reapers. To incentivize you, I shall grant the volunteer whatever he or she likes within reason. Consider it an early present in celebration of the New Year,” she said, voice filled to the brim with promise.

_“Perhaps I should do it,” Yamamoto didn’t realize Sakura would go to such lengths._

_“I just want to fight that little shit, Ichigo, again,” Kenpachi wondered if the Seventh Division’s captain could arrange it. “Damn it. I wasn’t picked as a volunteer,” he thought again, briefly regretting never taking the demon arts seriously._  

_“With her budget, I could completely upgrade my laboratory,” Kurotsuchi frowned. “Why was I not selected? I can at least manage such low-range kidō.”_

_“Maybe she could invite Lady Yoruichi to the next noble gathering!” Soi Fon’s eyes sparkled._

_“Perhaps we could trade lieutenants,” Toshiro considered, rubbing his chin._

_“I could call her ‘Saku-chan’ without any of her backtalk!” Ukitake grinned, but was reminded of his health by a wave of nausea._

_“There is nothing I desire,” Unohana sighed, trying hard to think of something. “Maybe she could replace the hospital beds. The patients do complain often.”_

_“I wonder if she’d let me take her out,” Shunsui sported a mischievous grin._

“I volunteer,” Byakuya said at last.

Awe washed over the room and everyone’s mouths hung open. Ukitake flew into a coughing fit brought on by nothing more than absolute shock. Byakuya rolled his eyes, and the head captain pounded his staff against the floor.

“It is settled. Captain Kuchiki, please see Captain Tsukōji for your orders.”

Stealing a glance at Sakura, Byakuya confirmed that he would. No one believed that the standoffish captain _wanted_ to subject himself to a class full of impertinent youngsters, or that he _needed_ anything for his services. His wealth denied him nothing. Sakura felt the curiosity wafting in the air, but was thankful that no one made any offhand comments. There would be plenty of time to deal with that once the invitations to the engagement party went out. Captain Yamamoto adjourned the meeting, and the captains left for their respective offices. Byakuya and Sakura lingered behind with Ukitake who followed them casually. After a while, he turned towards his squad’s barracks.

“I never knew Senpai was so unapologetically nosy,” Byakuya noticed.

Sakura looked back to make sure that Ukitake was completely out of sight. In a few hours, he would no doubt be either at her office or laboring to contain his excitement. She reminded Byakuya about the invitations going out, and he groaned but quickly caught himself, watching her face to make sure she didn’t misinterpret him. She didn’t bat an eye. The prospect of everyone’s looks and opinions unsettled her as well. They arrived at the offices of the Seventh and lingered outside of the main entrance. She sank underneath the threshold while he leaned on the post. Passersby whispered.

“I’m going to get some work done,” she said. “Thank you for volunteering to teach those classes by the way. Come by later so we can go over your orders.”

He proudly internalized her gratitude.

“So I will be reporting to you? Is that right?” he asked.

“Do you not have work to do, Captain Kuchiki?” she shot back, turning to unlock the door.

He started a retort, but she quickly shut the door before he could speak. He sighed, thinking of the mountain of work awaiting him, and the drama that the day would no doubt bring.

* * *

A knock on his office door startled Renji, breaking his attention from the music video he watched. He shoved the cell phone Kisuke gave him into a desk drawer bursting at the seams with files. He developed an addiction to various games and features on the device and needed to get it in check before it interfered with his duties. He shuffled some papers around to appear busy, and permitted the guest to enter. The Sixth Division’s fourth seat stumbled in.

“Lieutenant Abarai, sir, uh, there’s a guy here who said he’s from the Tsukōji clan. I told him where Squad Seven is, but he said he’s here to see you.”

Beads of sweat poured from Renji’s forehead. He had to play this cool or risk being embarrassed again and suffering his captain’s piercing exasperation. He allowed his muscles to relax, and let go of the tension that created a lump in his throat. He licked his dry lips and reached for a glass of water before instructing the officer to let the visitor in. A courier, a young man around Renji’s age though one could never be sure in the Soul Society, entered. He wore a black _kimono_ , black _hakama_ , and a red scarf with a gold armband. Renji stood up to greet him and the man bowed. The lieutenant didn’t know how to react. He’d never been regarded so regally before and it made him uneasy. He asked the courier to stand, but he ignored him.

“Vice-Captain, sir, you have been invited to a most intimate event hosted by the Tsukōji family. We do hope that you will attend.”

With that, the man stood up, extended a box to Renji who took it, and left. The box was black and tied with a gold ribbon. Renji opened it, removing and unsealing the letter that was inside.

 _Renji Abarai,_

_Vice-Captain of the Sixth Company of the Gotei Thirteen,_

_the honor of your presence is requested at the Tsukōji Manor_

_to commemorate the engagement of Lady Sakura to Lord Byakuya,_ _the head of the house of Kuchiki._

_The dinner and formal announcement will be held this Saturday at seven o’clock in the evening._

_I anticipate your response and arrival._

 

_Warm regards,_

_Tsekō Tsukōji, Twenty-Third Head of the House of Tsukōji_

Renji put the letter down after it nearly fell out of his hands. He laid it out on the desk, and read it once more to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things. Neglecting the rest of the contents of the box, he sped to his captain’s office, tearing down the hallway and gaining the attention of everyone he passed. He knocked several times before stopping and realizing that he almost beat the door down.

* * *

Kenpachi fiddled with the paperweights on Sakura’s desk. She came in, annoyed that instead of just waiting in the front like everyone else, he took the liberty of hanging out inside of her office.

“Took you long enough,” he griped.

“Oh, my apologies. I would hate for your blade to rust after five whole minutes of not cutting anything.”

She leaned against the desk as he picked up the glass jar of candy on it, popping sweets into his mouth. Yachiru, and her terrible influence. Sakura pulled the jar from his hands and put on a grave face.

“Somebody die? What’s eating you?” he asked, snatching the jar back.

She unlocked a drawer and removed a box, placing it in front of him. He glanced at it, and continued eating the candy. She sighed, knowing that she’d have to say the words.

“On Saturday, at my father’s house – Kenpachi,” she requested his full attention. “Byakuya and I are engaged.”

He rolled a few of the candies around in his hand before putting them back in the jar and sitting it down. He took the box and ripped it open.

“That’s why he was staring at you in the meeting, huh? Yeah, I saw. I guess he finally came to his senses, the prick. At least he’s not a complete idiot, I’ll give him that.”

Sakura fell back, stunned by his reaction. She expected carnage, a list of reasons why Byakuya deserved nothing from her except a fight to the death, or at least, no reaction at all.

“You aren’t –” she watched him toss the invitation on the floor and dig into the box.

“What? You expected me to be pissed, didn’t you? Well, I’m not. That guy is so fucking uptight, fucking you would probably put some hair on his chest, and you can finally stop being all depressed over him, and I can see your real fighting potential.”

Her face flamed with embarrassment and she shoved him violently.

“You bastard! Take that back! You make it sound like I’m some lovesick weakling!”

“Pipe down,” he said, happy with the cash and tokens he received for use at the Seireitei’s new casino.

“I’m just fucking with you. You took his treatment better than I would have. I would have kicked his ass and been done with it. I am serious about him pounding you though. That guy probably hasn’t gotten off in a century.”

“Enough!” she ordered.

* * *

“Come in,” Byakuya said.

Renji decided to stay close to the door just in case he said something stupid and angered his captain. Byakuya regarded him half-heartedly.

“What is it? It must be urgent given all of the noise you made knocking on the door.”

Renji held out the invitation and fumbled for his words.

“Captain, some guy just left and he—” he paused as the piece of paper he insecurely grasped flapped up and down.

Byakuya tried not to get annoyed. This was standard with Renji so he focused his attention back on the report that he worked on. His lieutenant conversed easily with him most of the time, but sometimes he behaved like a weak-kneed schoolgirl.

“Sit down, Renji. I shall wait on you,” Byakuya patronized him with the flattest tone of voice he could manage.

Renji tried to force one foot in front of the other but he stayed stuck to the floor. He finally moved a few steps after getting a hold of himself.

“Captain Kuchiki, this is an invitation to a party for your– your _engagement._ Is this for real?”

Byakuya rested his head on his palm and stared at Renji intently. He underestimated Sakura. He knew the courier would arrive today, but he thought it would be much later so that he could avoid Renji’s reaction for at least a little while.

“Sir?” Renji waited.

“Well, are you coming, Renji?”

_It’s for real._

“Captain, I didn’t even know that you and Captain Tsukōji were— I— Congratulations, sir! This is awesome, really. I think having a woman would be good for you and help you loosen—” he hesitated.

Byakuya ignored him. He didn’t know whether to slap his subordinate or venture laughing at him. He reached for the invitation which Renji surrendered. It was exquisite. Black paper with textured gold letters, a minimalist design of high quality to steal attention. They turned out better than he thought on such short notice. He mentally applauded his taste. He and Sakura mildly debated what to choose, but eventually agreed on simplistic elegance. Renji watched his nonreactive captain admire the invitation, and raked a hand through his crimson hair. His shock didn’t fade, but he felt a little more at ease. Byakuya Kuchiki of all people getting married? It had to be the apocalypse. He studied his face to determine his feelings, and regarded how calm Byakuya seemed. _Is he happy?_

“Renji, I am under the impression that there is a problem,” Byakuya said as if he read Renji’s mind.

“No, sir! I’m just—wow. This is kind of trippy. _You’re_ getting married.”

Byakuya sighed. Absolutely no one was more shocked by the engagement than he and Sakura, but with a few days for things to set in, it didn’t seem like such an absurd concept. Involving others in his affairs irritated him but he would allow himself to enjoy this time. He never celebrated marrying Hisana, but now he had the chance to know what it was like to prepare for a wedding and share the moment with others.

“So are you coming?” Byakuya asked again, sliding the invitation back to Renji.

“Absolutely! Congratulations again, Captain. I wish you the best, sir.”

“Thank you. Enjoy your gift,” Byakuya said, more or less sending him on his way.

Renji was puzzled. Byakuya asked him to retrieve the box the invitation came in. The redhead obeyed and returned to the office with it, remembering that he forgot to finish viewing the other items inside. Byakuya opened the box and removed the silk, revealing another compartment. He took out the velvet pouch and handed it to Renji who was surprised to see the sunglasses that he’d been saving up for. He tried to voice his thanks but was too distracted by the present.

“You have talked about them for several months now and though I cannot be sure of what you could possibly wear them with, you have been working quite a bit of overtime to get them so now you can take a break.”

Byakuya explained the importance of gift giving in the nobility. In addition to receiving a formal thank-you after attending an event, invited guests could expect a token of appreciation along with their invitation. It denoted a person’s significance to the inviting family. Teeming with surprise, it shocked Renji to know that his captain listened to him much less gave any thought to things he liked. He thanked Byakuya again for the sunglasses and took his leave.

Lunchtime drew near so Byakuya cleaned off his desk. He didn’t complete any work, but seeing Renji so taken aback and happy didn’t irk him as much as he thought. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to keep him around as his lieutenant for at least a little while longer. He tried to sense all _reiatsu_ nearby and when sure that he could move about freely, he flash stepped to Squad Seven. He entered the front office and stopped at the front desk where the division’s lieutenant filled in for lower officers that had already left for lunch. He wore the headphones that Sakura picked out to be delivered with his invitation, and the music he listened to blasted so loudly, he failed to notice Byakuya standing there.

“Ayano Kuramoto,” Byakuya said, trying to get the man’s attention.

Ayano looked up and paled from the sight of the Sixth’s captain. He turned off the music and stood up. Byakuya apologized for being short with him the last time he visited and promised that it would not happen again. Ayano assured him that it was unnecessary and told him that Sakura would be out soon.

“Captain Kuchiki,” he held out a hand. “Congratulations on your engagement. You’ve made an excellent decision, sir.”

Sakura walked in with Kenpachi causing the energy in the room to shift and Byakuya’s temper to flare up. He noticed the invitation box in his hands and flicked his thumb against _Senbonzakura_ ’s cross-guard, ready for impact. Kenpachi patted Sakura on the head and left without anything except flashing a grin.

“Thanks, Ayano,” she said. “Come with me, Captain Kuchiki.”

They descended a steep flight of stairs. Sakura pushed open a metal door that led to Seventh Company’s training grounds. Byakuya wondered why she took him there, but figured she’d explain. She was ready to do what she’d craved for years.

“Why would I fight you?” he asked watching the little woman sharpen her sword.

She removed her _haori_ and rested it on a rail. She placed a barrier around the area upstairs to protect it from their fight.

“We’d just be sparring. I’ve wanted to test your mettle for some time now. I’ve engaged every other captain in battle except you and Yamamoto of course. Let’s remedy that.”

“I thought you had Zaraki to appease you in that department,” he scoffed and removed his _haori_ as well.

She ignored the comment, and her eyes gleamed, revealing her bloodlust. Caught off guard by her deadly demeanor, he barely dodged when she swung her sword at him.

“Very well then,” he said, drawing his sword.

Suddenly a gold light surrounded her and she transformed into one of her combat suits. He watched, lips parted, as the armor and clothing she wore melted from her body illuminating her naked silhouette, nothing private exposed, but everything outlined for a second that felt like an hour to him. The curve of her breasts and hips held his attention, but his face remained unfazed. A white strip of cotton around her chest served as her only covering up top. Black stretch pants and white boots completed the rest of her outfit. He’d never witnessed her soul armor transformation, but he did sometimes hear a frustrated Captain Kurotsuchi fuss over how he couldn’t figure out her ability. Her hair lay loose in a messy bun, tendrils spilling down and dusting her bare shoulders. His eyes flickered over her form, adopting different shades of gray.

“Shall we begin?” she asked.

“Yes, but we’ll only use _zanjutsu_ , _hakuda_ , and perhaps, _kidō_. If we’re sparring I don’t see the need to release our _zanpakutōs._ ”

He didn’t want to risk hurting her.

“I’m a captain, the same as you, Byakuya. Don’t you dare go easy on me. I’m your Senpai even if only by a few years. What sense does it make for you to hesitate just because you _could_ hurt me? Such an arrogant assumption. I can immobilize you before one of those beautiful blade petals even reaches me,” she said, throwing her sword across her back.

_Is she taunting me?_

“Is that a fact?” he asked, accepting her challenge. “Well, Captain _Tsukōji_ , I’d like to see you try.”

He closed his eyes and pointed _Senbonzakura_ upwards and commanded its release.

“Scatter.”

“ _Bakudō_ Number 100, _Kokusen no shi_ ,” she called out.

A million black wires covered his body, binding him from head to toe. He fell to the ground on his side, and she looked down at him shaking her head. The second he closed his eyes left him open to her attack. He mumbled something despite being restrained. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. He should have been completely bound, not even able to make a sound. Suddenly, a storm of blades surrounded him and tore the wires, releasing him. He stood up, picking out the wires entangled in his scarf.

“Number 100, huh? A good choice for any other adversary. Surely, you knew that _Senbonzakura_ could render it useless or were you simply boasting your ability to cast it? What was all of that bragging about?” he inquired, voice heavy with cockiness.

Truth be told, he had not yet mastered _kidō_ at the hundreds level. She effortlessly employed it against him, earning his admiration. However, although it made for a grand show, it couldn’t stop his _zanpakutō_.

“Have you forgotten what I said? I told you I could immobilize you before you could cut me. Did I lie?”

He smirked, and glanced at the flurry of _Senbonzakura’s_ fragments awaiting his command.

“Bring all things into your domain, _Kanagaki_!”

Her _zanpakutō_ , _Kanagaki_ , a multi-type blade could adopt many forms. Its power rested in pockets across several dimensions that she could summon at her leisure. Depending on her intent when releasing either _Kanagaki’s_ _shikai_ or its _bankai_ , _Kanagaki_ _Kōtsumetsu_ , her armor changed to complement the sword’s form. Deep meditation was the source of her ability to call forth different kinds of power to confound and ultimately, subdue her enemies. She would never forget the look of terror on Captain Hitsugaya’s face when her blade transformed into pillars of fire and consumed _Hyōrinmaru_ , turning the ice dragon into a cloud of steam. She figured steel against steel would be the best plan of attack against Byakuya. A circle of swords appeared above them. She pointed a finger at him.

“Find your enemy, _Kanagaki,”_ she said, beckoning an onslaught of blades down on him.

Using his hands, he created a blanket of protection with _Senbonzakura,_ blocking a considerable fraction of her swords. However, many broke through, and he narrowly escaped with flash step. A curse quietly escaped his lips and he observed the torn sleeves of his _shihakushō,_ ripping off the rest of the hanging fabric. Several of the blades managed to graze him. Sakura watched him attempt to ascertain her abilities to formulate a counterattack. She materialized a single sword and rushed at him. He threw up a wall of blades and she tried to slash through it to no avail. In an instant, he was behind her. Before he could strike, she flashed stepped behind him, and their swords clashed.

“ _Hadō_ 33, _Sōkatsui_!” he said, firing the blast spell at her.

She flung her sword upwards to block it with the force of the swing, but he flashed behind her, releasing the spell again. This time, making impact.

She flew into the support beam on the other side of the room. He winced from the sound of the crash. A fog of dust obstructed his vision and before it cleared, she came at him with _hakuda._ Her fist met the right side of his jaw and hurled him back. Before he hit anything, he forced his weight to his feet, skidding across the ground and landing on one of his knees. It hurt. She picked up her sword and solidified a stance and he stood up. He moved a hand in her direction and _Senbonzakura_ surrounded her. She tried to leap to get outside of the sphere but he matched her speed. She seemed slower and he assumed it was due to taking _Sōkatsui_ head on.

“Do you yield?” he asked, short of breath.

She smiled and shook her head. She surrounded her body with _kidō_ and moved through the wall of her pink prison. He quickly moved his hand to release her but she had already stepped through. He called his sword back to an unreleased state and brought it towards hers to block her next attack causing sparks to fly between them.

He sheathed _Senbonzakura,_ and grabbed her arm.

“Are you completely mad?” he exploded, shaking her slightly. “Look at you! You're bleeding everywhere!”

“Stop overreacting,” she said, pushing him away. “I'm fine. The _kidō_ blocked most of the force _.”_

She didn't tell him that she never used the technique before. She'd picked up the basics of it from random reports but it wasn't her preferred method of battle so she saw no reason to use such a heavy, defensive tactic. However, being caged in by _Senbonzakura_ proved a good test environment to determine its effectiveness. He assessed the damage she sustained as well as his own. Both of his arms were bleeding as well as his mouth from the punch she gave him. He grabbed her again and pulled her towards the door. They got back to her office and he told her to sit down after asking where she kept the medical supplies. He kneeled in front of her and applied ointment to her wounds with a cotton ball.

“That got entirely out of hand,” he said, not looking at her.

She winced and rolled her eyes. _Dramatic as ever._

“I'm fine,” she patted a swab against his cheek.

Once he finished cleaning her up, he administered medicinal _kidō._ She tried to do the same for him but he lightly swatted her hands away. She groaned but relented. He rubbed a scar that began to form just underneath her breast and she quickly grabbed his hand.

“What is it?” he asked, still rubbing the area until her skin smoothed over. “I'm finished. Now, you can take a look at _your_ handiwork.”

She nodded and traded places with him on the couch. She wiped his shoulder and bicep with alcohol to clean the blood that dried and disinfect the affected areas. Her skin still glistened with sweat and her hair stuck to her face. He pulled the stubborn hairs away with his free hand, keeping his fingers on her neck after moving the hair behind her ear. Even though she stood, she barely exceeded him in height.

“You are capable of causing quite a bit of damage. It is difficult to believe given how small you are,” he said.

She thumped his forehead causing him to frown, and laughed.

“I enjoyed sparring with you, Byakuya.”

She dabbed his cheek lightly with the cotton, and her hands glowed from the _kaidou._ He closed his eyes, appreciating her healing touch. He opened his legs so she could step closer and get better access to his face. He healed quickly and she looked him over again to make sure that she didn't miss anything. He opened his eyes and locked onto hers. He voiced his thanks. She put her hands on his shoulders and he straightened up, casually sliding a hand up the side of her leg making her shiver a little. She adjusted his _kenseikan_ and suggested he stop fighting in them. One was cracked. She removed them and guided his hair out of his eyes. He took the hairpiece from her and set it aside on the couch. Their eyes met again. He reached for his captain’s robe and pulled out a small box. Her brows furrowed from curiosity.

“Perhaps now is a good time to give you this,” he said, opening the box.

He revealed a ring with a single, large emerald, multifaceted and flawless. The glint of the stone captivated her. She nearly sputtered trying to form a sentence.

“I apologize for it not being ready when I first proposed,” he said, his eyes watching everything that played on her face.

It pleased him to see her marvel the ring. He figured one beautiful gem fit her perfectly. She was unlike anyone he'd ever known and he wanted the ring that symbolized his vow to her to convey how he thought of her. A hindered breath escaped her.

“Byakuya, it's –” 

He pushed her back gently, taking her hand. 

“Sakura Tsukōji, please accept this ring and be my wife.”

She gave him a watery smile after finding the words to return to him.

“This ring is beautiful, and you really can't miss it,” she laughed. “I love it and I –”

Ayano’s voiced sounded from the intercom on her desk.

_"Captain, Rukia Kuchiki is here to see you. Ichigo Kurosaki is with her.”_

Byakuya and Sakura looked at each other mirroring the same thought. She uttered a quick “yes” and bounced up and down, hurrying him to put the ring on her finger. He slipped it on and stood up as she moved towards the door. She asked her lieutenant to send Rukia and Ichigo in, and she threw on a long-sleeved haori. Byakuya damned his appearance. Sakura opened the door as Rukia extended a hand to knock. Violet and amber eyes watched Byakuya with surprise.

“We were sparring,” he said.

“And Sakura kicked your ass. Nice!” Ichigo raised his hand to high-five the lady captain. She didn't understand the gesture, and Ichigo shook his head mouthing “never mind.”

Byakuya glared at the boy.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked.

Rukia held up a black box and smiled.

“Congratulations are in order!” she squeaked.

She shoved the box into Ichigo's hands and turned to Sakura. She didn’t need to receive a formal invitation but Byakuya used it as an excuse to get her a gift.

“I'm so happy that you're going to be a part of our family, Captain. If you need any help from me for Saturday's party, please let me know. Ichigo and I are so excited,” Rukia said.

“Rukia,” Byakuya began as he examined himself in a mirror. “Do you approve of your gift?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. He could barely shut her up as she talked about all the things she would draw with her new art kit.

 _"Nii-sama,_ it’s perfect. Thank you so –,” her eyes trailed down to Sakura’s hand. “Captain Tsukōji, is _this_ your ring?”

Sakura confirmed and Rukia smiled at Byakuya who nodded. Ichigo grabbed Rukia's hand and pulled her towards the door before she could overwhelm her brother and his fiancée with questions. They congratulated Byakuya and Sakura again, and left. Sakura smiled and closed the door.

 _“_ It's wonderful to have her blessing,” she said. “Even Kurosaki’s.”

Byakuya agreed. He watched her admire the ring. She held out her hand, taking in the moment’s reality. He pulled her against him, resting his chin on her head lightly.

“I should be going now. I am loathe to admit that I haven't gotten any work done today. Goodbye, Sakura,” he said, grabbing the syllabus for the _kidō_ course he would teach.

Once he was gone, she stole another look at her ring, packed her things, and left her lieutenant in charge for the rest of the day. After work, Byakuya went home, stopping at the memorials on the property first. He burned incense for his parents and grandparents and caressed Hisana’s gravestone.

“Hisana, Rukia approves of Sakura. It doesn’t seem so difficult anymore; moving on. Thank you, Hisana.”


	6. Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: kidō – demon arts, incantations that only Shinigami can cast  
> hakuda – hand-to-hand combat  
> reiatsu – spiritual pressure  
> hadō – kidō used to attack  
> byakurai – "pale lighting," kidō attack  
> hohō – defensive fighting related to footwork  
> Seireitei – Court of pure souls  
> Gotei (13) – the divisions comprising the "court guard"  
> zanpakutō – soul cutter  
> Kanagaki – Sakura's zanpakutō which stores its different forms in pocket dimensions  
> arrancar – hollow who has taken off its mask. A type of shattering of the barrier between hollows and shinigami  
> shikai – first stage of zanpakutō release  
> tenteikūra – a binding spell that enables the caster to speak to multiple parties at once without being in the same vicinity  
> Hōgyoku – Crumbling Orb used to do Aizen's dirty work, Kisuke's Hōgyoku is stolen by Aizen from Rukia Kuchiki's body

Byakuya should have listened when Sakura told him the number of the key to his classroom. Now, he tarried outside of the door with his dignity faltering, and a keyring with at least a thousand options. Papers in one hand, stacked high on top of a briefcase, and  _Senbonzakura_ at his hip made cracking the code of the mystery key increasingly difficult. How much more he'd have to pay for his lack of attention, he didn't know.

People undoubtedly labeled him many things, but "careless" and "forgetful" weren't two of them. He tried one key after another as quickly as possible, praying no one would catch him so beside himself. A state of disarray hovered over him ominously ever since the topic of marriage came up again, but being perfectly honest, he didn't mind anymore. Reconnecting with Sakura gave him something to look forward to each day. Out of nowhere, a feeling much lighter than the volcanic annoyance bubbling inside of him, thrummed deep within his chest.

Not one thought about teaching had ever crossed his mind, but the idea gained a life of its own as he listened to Sakura's advice, and discussed what he wanted to accomplish during his time as an instructor. Her lips curled up knowingly, freezing him in place, and she saw right through him. He had to admit to himself that the more they talked about it, the more he wanted to step into this new, unexpected role, and Sakura believed he would be a natural.

Their discussion switched gears from teaching to the last fifty years, and her words warbled in his ears, hardly coherent. Things like the flecks of blue in her eyes, the way she clutched her chin when she was deep in thought, and her laughter seemed more important at the time. Every syllable from her mouth was weighed with passion and it confounded him; witnessing someone so high off nothing but being alive. She dramatically reenacted her experiences testing new weapons with Captain Kurotsuchi. Apparently, the man got a kick out of sabotaging the prototypes to see just how qualified she was to be the Director of Weapons Development. Byakuya made a mental note to have a conversation with the captain of the Twelfth.

 _And then there were the Women's Shinigami Association meetings._  Sakura mentioned that without fail, she worked overtime every Wednesday because of the gatherings filled with superficial initiatives and gossip that always lasted too long with those godless women. Byakuya wondered why she subjected herself to their foolishness, but realized as much as she wanted to wring their necks, she loved supporting them, and he knew that it was the reason so many admired her. Though patient beyond belief, something he couldn't conceptualize when dealing with types like Rangiku Matsumoto and Yachiru Kusajishi, he could see, even under the veil of nobility, that Sakura was as much of an Aries as she'd ever been, and he liked that her temper still burned like the sun. She was alive in every way; like the morning dew on a petal, and like the clouds that always reinvented themselves. Just when he thought he understood her ins and outs, she'd change. Her eyes softened, her lips released only low, husky murmurs, and she looked at him,  _really looked at him_ , and smiled.

She was beautiful in a way that required appreciation, and though he tried to limit their eye contact, and only listen to her, he felt it improper not to give her his absolute focus. Before he could get too comfortable absorbing the things of her, duty called, and she tossed the massive set of keys at him, quickly mentioning which one to use and where to go for his class the next day before leaving.

He neutralized the recurring irritation brought on by being locked out, and walked over to a desk and chair a few feet away to sit his items down. He tried again to remember but only arrived nowhere fast. When he made it on campus, the central office was empty, and he thought perhaps someone might have finally come along to assist him.

"You're quite early," Sakura said, announcing her presence from behind him with perfect timing.

Byakuya turned around, careful not to give away his relief, and held the keys out to her. She smirked and opened the door, realizing that she probably should have only given him the key that he needed. However, it was amusing to see him struggle since it rarely ever happened.

Once inside and settled, Byakuya laid out the things that he had prepared, and wrote his name on the board. Being an instructor involved quite a bit of responsibility, but he was more than up to the task and even took things a step further than what was required of him. Sakura watched as he sorted out his instructor materials, set up the roster, and carefully arranged nametags on his desk for the students to retrieve after signing in. Last, he counted the seats to ensure there were enough for each student. He felt her eyes on him.

"How long do you plan to observe?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Until I can confirm that you're the best choice to instruct this course," she winked, eliciting a huff from him. "So far, so good."

She removed a tablet from her bag, and flipped through several pages until she almost reached the end of the book. She paced the area in front of the board, and it was Byakuya's turn to watch her. He placed the last packet of course information down at an empty desk, before moving to block her path. She retracted with sharp reflexes.

"Is something the matter?" she asked.

He noticed the change in her disposition. The cheer and liveliness she had, which he didn't believe to be possible after she told him that she arrived to work three hours earlier than he, faded, and now, a tenseness held onto her. The large classroom with vaulted ceilings amplified the clanging of her armor, and the stroke of her pen each time she crossed out whatever she jotted down. The frustrated stride of her movements also didn't go unnoticed.

"As a matter of fact, I would like to pose that question to you."

His brow ticked up, and a frown tugged at her mouth. She hoped that she didn't come off agitated. Offering no more than a furtive shrug of her shoulders, she turned and paced in the other direction. A bit taken aback by being blatantly ignored, Byakuya checked the clock to confirm that he had time before the students arrived. He followed her from a short distance, and she cut her eyes peripherally.

" _I'm fine_ , Byakuya."

Her tone made it evident that she wanted him to drop it and focus on other things that needed to be done for the class. Ordinarily, he wouldn't bother trying to understand what anyone felt, but everything about her beckoned a slow but sure evolution in him. With their impending marriage, he figured there was no better time to learn the rhythm to how they'd communicate with each other going forward.

"No. You are not," he pressed.

He flashed in front of her, and the sudden pressure made her drop the notebook. It landed on the floor, revealing two pages with large, red X's on them. He reached for it, but she grabbed it first, and turned her back on him again. She let go of a stressed sigh and chucked the book on the desk. If he had any doubt that something troubled her before, it was obvious to him now. She apologized and explained that she had a meeting with the head captain to update him on her progress with strategies for the winter battle. She placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward.

"To be honest with you, I am at a loss," she admitted. "I just – I can't seem to –"

He moved closer and she could feel him at her side. She faced him, and it was as if he looked past all her attempts at holding herself together. His eyes drilled steel into her, coaxing her to relent.

"Enough of this," he said, almost whispering. It was a gentle command.

She pushed upwards, straightened herself, and faced him head-on.

" _I cannot fail_ ," she began again, not taking her eyes from his. "Byakuya, we must defeat Aizen. Even if his  _zanpakutō_  can manipulate our minds, our hearts must be that much more determined to be victorious, but -" she hesitated. "How can I plan against such an enemy? I have to be  _one thousand_  steps ahead of him and even still have several backups. He is proficient in every way of battle. I cannot find his weakness."

He crossed his arms and nodded, absorbing the truth in her words. However, none of it mattered. They couldn't lose. It was that simple. She looked back at one of the pages she crossed out, and ripped it at the perforated edges. The abandoned quiet of the room was unsettling. All he heard was her need to formulate a cohesive plan. Her thoughts collided, and the energy she exhausted grappling with them came off in waves. It raged on, completely diminishing the smile she greeted him with, and he had one more reason to hate Aizen.

"Enough," he repeated. "We cannot wage war like this. You are aware of your duty as our tactician. However, you must remember that the fight is not yours alone. All of our efforts combined will ensure victory."

He took the pages and notebook from her, and set them aside. She nodded, trying to assume his confidence.

"You're right. I suppose I am a bit unnerved because  _everything_  is at stake. We are fighting one of our own for the first time. Aizen knows us, and as it turns out, we never knew him. He can exploit what is dear to us. He's proven that much. I've always gone into battle knowing the outcome. I've always known how to win, how to minimize the damage, but I cannot escape the fact that there will be casualties."

A patch of silence settled between them, and he understood. She didn't doubt her abilities. She was afraid of losing someone. Byakuya thought of his father and the look he couldn't forget on his grandfather's face.

* * *

_He'd smiled like he always did when Ginrei came home. His grandfather kept his secrets, first taught him how to fight, and sometimes stole him away from his training to relax. Byakuya enjoyed gleaning knowledge about leadership and power, over tea, from his elder. Ginrei was a safe place for him. Though he always seemed busy, he knew that for him, the man was never out of reach._

_But Ginrei didn't have the softness he'd become accustomed to. Not that day. Redness puffed up the corners of his lavender eyes, and he toppled over. It was the only time Byakuya had ever seen him not standing tall and strong. Servants rushed to him but he assured them that he was fine. Byakuya's mother walked in with her head down, and grief suffocated the room._

_Through the window, he noticed officers of the Sixth Division standing at the four corners of something covered with a white sheet, and Byakuya knew that it was his father. His mother grabbed him and he turned into her, releasing a cry he couldn't control.  
_

* * *

"When it is time to fight, promise me that you will be careful," Sakura said.

They would be married long before the decisive battle, and she was right; everything was at stake. Rukia would be dragged into it, and of course, so would she.

"I will," he swore. "Tell me the same."

She clutched the lapel of his  _haori,_ and lowered her head. Before she made her vow, a noise at the door interrupted. She turned around and smiled.

"You have visitors, Captain Kuchiki."

The door opened, and a couple of students trudged in looking as if they'd just gotten out of bed. More followed. Sakura thumped his chest with the back of her hand, offering a sly smirk to convey ' _good luck_.' She moved to a seat near the emergency exit and made herself comfortable. Byakuya mentally prepared, nodding at each student that entered the room. They were early and he wondered how long it would take before that initiative burned out. After some time of waiting on the twenty-fifth and last person, he decided to begin even though hardly a minute had passed the actual class start time.

"Attention, all of you. I am Captain Byakuya Kuchiki, your instructor. Please form a line in front of my desk here, and put your signature next to your name on this roster," he said, holding up a clipboard before putting it back down. "Also, pick up your nametag. I've made them just for today. Tomorrow, I will know you by name."

A few groans of inconvenience filled the air, but the students filed in, making their way to his desk. The main door creaked loudly and the last student trailed in. He and Byakuya set their sights on each other, and the latter searched the roster for the only name without a signature.

"Gōrō Yōshida, you are late. Therefore, yours is the first name I will remember."

Sakura's attention shifted from her notebook to the poor boy who appeared thoroughly embarrassed. She pitied the young ones. Byakuya was going to be tough, but she expected nothing less. The students hushed their laughter and Gōrō pressed towards the front to sign in. He bowed and apologized before moving to a desk. Byakuya watched him sit down and settle in. He briefly went over the roster, pausing for questions. He read that students were more successful if they felt they could relate to their instructors so he opened the floor for questions about himself, praying there'd be none.  _Nearly every hand went up._  He pointed to the student seated in the top right corner of the room; a tiny, bespectacled brunette.

"Sensei, sir, of all the four styles of battle, where would you rank  _kidō?"_

" _Kidō_ is actually my second preferred method of fighting after the art of the sword. As you will learn, it can be used to bind enemies, damage their weapons and last, but not least, severely injure or even kill your enemy. However, each  _shinigami_  fights differently. For instance, Captain Soi Fon relies on a combination of  _hakuda_ , and  _kidō._ It is truly about where your training takes you. Though, it is wise to become skilled in each category, you will probably end up using one or two methods predominantly."

The students scribbled notes and asked many other questions. Sakura also wrote a few things down, and was very proud of the way Byakuya conducted the classroom. He spoke and acted like a seasoned professor, and her hunch was proven. He even seemed to enjoy the task.

"Class, let's move outside to run a few  _hadō_ drills," he decided.

He'd debated whether the first day was too soon to begin practical training, but he wanted to assess each student's  _reiatsu_  and identify weaknesses they needed help improving. They started for the back exit and Sakura stood up to follow them. The girl with glasses stopped in front of her, falling to her feet.

"Lady Tsukōji, please forgive me for not addressing you earlier. I did not notice you in this corner of the room."

The students that had not made it outside looked on, confused, and the others attempted to poke back into the room. Byakuya didn't mind the interruption. Though he found the concept of teaching one of great interest, the questions presented earlier seemed like they'd never end, and made instructing a more demanding task than he originally thought.

"Please rise," Sakura requested, but the girl hesitated.

"Milady, I am Ayeka of the lesser house of Nakamura or at least… I was. I have enrolled here because of you. I want to be a  _shinigami_  like you. Because of this I—I've been disowned."

Crushing guilt clawed at Sakura's heart. She never stopped to think or care much about the way her will affected others. Ladies outside of the Shihōin and Fēng families  _were not warriors._ She knew her decision to join the  _Gotei_  was heavily frowned upon, but she believed that would change. The women of the Nakamura family served the ladies of the upper noble houses over the years as handmaidens. That was Ayeka's destiny as far as her family was concerned. A gentle curve to the girl's lips put Sakura at ease. Ayeka looked up, still afraid to take her hand, but Sakura insisted. Finally, she rose to her feet.

"Ayeka, we will take no more time away from Captain Kuchiki and the other students. However, I'd like to speak with you about this at a later date. Also, you will address me as 'Captain Tsukōji' on campus."

"Yes, milady –uh, Captain. I will do so until you marry Sensei," she said, glancing at Byakuya with a blush powdering her cheeks.

There was an immediate uproar, and Sakura tried her best to stay cool. She wanted the news of their engagement to have died down, but dreams were for rookies. Just two more nights delayed their announcement party, and the chatter around the  _Seireitei_  had been incessant. Renji and other seated officers of the Sixth maintained a running bet of what Byakuya would wear and how he'd act, and it took everything within the Captain not to filet each of them.

* * *

_But Rukia was happy._

_She dawdled outside of his study, back against the wall to the right of the door, contemplating a knock._

" _Come in, Rukia. I am not busy," he entreated._

_She entered and bowed immediately. He turned to her, shocked by the bright yellow pajamas she wore. Blue crosses lining the long sleeves provided a dead giveaway of the designer._

" _Nii-sama, this is for you! I hope that you like it," she said, pushing out her words like they'd been bottled up for too long._

_He asked her to stand, and took the item from her properly. He carefully unwrapped the multicolored paper and opened the card she made._

_Nii-sama,_

_Words cannot express how happy I am for you. I pray for your marriage to be blessed and for you to always feel the love you deserve. This card is not much, but I wanted to give you something from my heart._

_~ Rukia_

_The back of the card featured Chappy and the Seaweed Ambassador holding hands. Thankfully, her head remained bowed so that he could compose himself with the help of a few rough furrows of his brows. After a short while, she inclined her head._

" _Thank you, Rukia. I shall cherish this," Byakuya remarked. "You may go."_

_He would never forget the twinkle in her eyes. Not even the starriest night could rival it.  
_

* * *

All the students rushed towards Byakuya and Sakura drowning out each other's voices with inquiries. Byakuya closed his eyes, and wondered how he managed to overlook a name like "Nakamura" on the roster.

"Sensei, is it true? Can two captains even get married? Isn't that like a conflict of interest?" One student asked.

"It is not," Byakuya explained. "Though two captains have never married in the  _Gotei_ 's history, let alone, served concurrently, it is not odd for members of the same family to serve together or even within the same division. My division is an example of that as is Captain Tsukōji's."

Sakura agreed hastily and pushed the students out of the room. Once the fuss settled and they were all outside, Byakuya asked them to watch as he prepared to fire  _byakurai_  at a target. He recited the incantation due to their inexperience, and Sakura narrowed her eyes at him to let him know to hold back. He scaled down a touch more, and released the blast, obliterating the target. There were oohs and ahs from all the students except a tall, green-eyed boy who didn't seem particularly impressed.

"Sensei," he started. "Can't you forgo the incantation? What if an enemy is coming at you? You might end up dead before you even get it all out."

Byakuya went over the importance of reciting the incantations when first learning  _kidō_ again _._ The student, Yōsuke Fujioka, crossed his arms still muttering his obstinacy, clearly failing to understand. Byakuya ignored the backtalk and asked them each to line up and demonstrate their abilities. One by one, they attempted to release the spell. A few hit the target while others found the spell had no effect if one word of the command was flubbed. Finally, Yōsuke stepped up. Only calling out the beginning of the spell, he discarded the rest and fired the blast.

A large, jagged circle of energy surged from his fingertip and sparks flew around and behind him, nearly striking some of the students who fled for cover. He lost control and the blast headed straight for Sakura. Byakuya attempted to send  _Senbonzakura_  to cover her, but there was no time. The blast made impact. He rushed to her to find that she'd already conjured a shield. The students looked on, their faces showing a combination of shock, fear, and relief. Once he confirmed that Sakura was unharmed, Byakuya flashed towards the would-be star pupil who all but crumbled to the ground. He looked at his classmates for support, but they kept their distance, feeling the heaviness of Byakuya's  _reiatsu_. Sakura smacked her forehead and, with the flutter of an eyelash, came between them. Byakuya halted, but kept his eyes on the boy.

"That is quite a bit of spiritual pressure you have there, Yōsuke!" she smiled, drawing out an uneasy breath from him. "Can't you see why Captain Kuchiki asked you all to use the incantation now? It's an absolutely critical step towards becoming a  _kidō_  master which I assume is your goal."

Yōsuke nodded. His eyes were red and he looked absolutely terrified of Byakuya who hadn't lifted his spiritual pressure. Sakura gave the boy a reassuring pat on the back. They were all young; fresh out of the squalor of the  _Rukongai,_ or released from the care of their families. Each of them had a unique story of pain and struggle that she and Byakuya could never understand. Though it was important for them to understand the consequences of their actions, she believed gentleness was the best way to help them with that. In her experience, it molded them into strong and responsible  _shinigami_. Byakuya watched how she tempered sternness with kindness, holding Yōsuke's attention and gaining his trust.

Sōjun was a mild man of similar temperament, highly respected in the  _Gotei_ , and known as a friend to everyone no matter their status. He had the skill in battle, more than he let others see as he was not given to violence. However, Byakuya felt his father's power in the few times that he chastised him. Sakura mirrored that in a way.

"Shake it off, but learn from this," her tone grew more serious. "You could have hurt someone. Use your powers wisely, and relax. You aren't the first person I've known who believed he could teach his teacher," she ended, giving Byakuya a sharp look.

He immediately recalled his  _hohō_ lessons with Yoruichi. Releasing a deep breath, he brought a fist to his lips, and cleared his throat.

"Class, we are going to repeat this drill after a fifteen-minute recess. Take care of any business you have before you return."

The students high-tailed it away, and Sakura crossed her arms, and glared at her fiancé. Byakuya set up new targets, ignoring her, though she remained at his heels. She hoped she annoyed him as much as he did her when he followed her around earlier.

"Are you going to say whatever it is you are thinking or assist me with this before they get back?" he asked.

"Neither. I'm leaving for my meeting," she said, capturing the length of her ponytail, feeling it for any debris from the blast.

She opened a compact, and he watched her primp and check herself out. He was thankful that the effect of the blast had been minimal. She was waiting and he knew what she wanted to hear. He took the mirror from her and closed it.

"I am sure the head captain will appreciate all that you've come up with so far," he said, reminding her of their discussion about Aizen. "Also," he closed his eyes and tried to will the words out of his mouth. "You handled that situation well. I was going to cut that boy to pieces."

"Murdering the students is actually not a function of the job role. He was simply confident in his abilities," she quipped. "You of all people should understand."

Byakuya paid the comparison no heed, and continued looking her over for any rubble that may have clung to her. Sakura started to fidget. The stress she suffered from her meeting had prevented her from noticing certain things. Particularly his scent. Now, with next to no proximity between them and nothing to distract her save the fleeting amount of time left before she needed to go, she fully considered him. He smelled of geranium and cedarwood, and the combination proved a dangerous cocktail for her senses. He brushed the flyaways of her hair behind one of her ears, and she tilted her head against his hand. They stood that way a few moments and an ocean stood between everything she wanted to say. Byakuya forced himself back to the task at hand.

"Go on," he said, breaking away from her and returning to the targets. "Before you are late."

It happened again. It was easy to get lost in him and let everything else fade away. So many things were left to learn about him and for her to share about herself, and reality hit her hard. They were getting married, and everyone knew about it. So many people had an opinion about how they would spend the rest of their lives, and she cared for none of it. She only wanted him. She started for the door to collect her things, but he stopped her.

"Sakura," he said without turning around to face her as he put up more targets. "I would like you to come to the manor tonight for dinner. I have added a few things to one of the gardens and I want to show them to you. Say that you will."

She smiled and caught the door handle, pausing to think on his invitation.

"I suppose I could think about it. Now, before I'm  _late_ , I really must be going, Captain."

Byakuya sucked his teeth, taking note of her tone. He didn't worry. She would come and there was no arrogance in his assumption. He was simply  _confident in his abilities_.

The rest of class went on without problems and after everyone left, Byakuya reclined at his desk to decompress. No one from the Sixth came running so Renji must have handled things well for the day. Rukia and Ichigo were probably home after the final fitting of their outfits for the engagement party. He had to get rid of them. He left quickly to prepare.

Once home, he met with the all too familiar noise of them before he made it in well. He heard them from down the hall even with Rukia's door closed. He rapped lightly at the door, and it slid open immediately. Ichigo sported his typical, casual look.

"Yo, Byakuya. 'Something wrong?"

"I would like you two to do something with yourselves this evening. I am entertaining an important guest for dinner. Take this," Byakuya said, holding out an envelope to Rukia.

His eyes flitted across the room, taking in the scene. Nothing disgraceful appeared to have taken place. He'd expressed, in not so many words, that he didn't like the two of them held up alone, but it was pointless to enforce anything after learning they'd secretly cohabitated during her assignment in the World of the Living. Ichigo and Rukia traded looks back and forth, saying nothing. Their way of conducting entire conversations without words perturbed him without fail.

"Was I not clear?" Byakuya spoke again.

Rukia took the envelope from him, and opened it just enough to look at what was inside. With wide eyes, she and Ichigo hurriedly grabbed their things and moved out.

"Thank you, Byakuya. See ya," Ichigo slid by him, tearing down the hallway.

"Have a good evening, Nii-sama," Rukia hushed a laugh and gave chase to Ichigo.

Byakuya would bet she already knew what was going on, but he was grateful that he didn't have to explain. The money he'd given them was clearly enough to purchase his privacy.

He let the cooks know what he wanted on the menu, and had a shower started and fresh clothes laid out for him to change into. Once dressed, he searched for Sakura's  _reiatsu,_ but didn't sense her. A servant informed him that dinner would be ready soon.

"Tell me when she arrives," Byakuya ordered.

He waited for a while once the servant left before stepping out on the veranda. His private chambers were located deep within the estate and far from the main entrance. The moon, a waning crescent that evening, made the stars the target for his appreciation. The luminous fixtures gleamed and danced, interrupting the thoughts that she might not come from taking root in his mind.

As he tried to lock onto her location again, he heard the night guards exclaiming about something. Byakuya made his way to the front of the property to find some of his servants encircling Sakura. She quirked on the tips of her toes, craning her head to get a look at him. The servants turned around when they noticed him, and bowed.

"Lady Tsukōji," Byakuya said. "I am glad that you could make it."

He appraised her for a moment. She wore a black dress with the look of a  _kimono_ , but certainly different. No doubt a garment from the Living World. The sash at her waist, tied at an angle and pulled to her left side, was red velvet. A balance of chiffon and satin coupled with the sleek design of the dress gave her a svelte look, accentuating parts of her that crawled into his memory. The top of the dress, also chiffon and embroidered with red flower petals, artfully concealed her intimate parts. He took a quick count of how many flowers it took to leave just enough of her to the imagination. The sleeves, chiffon as well, but bare and elongated, reached down to the hem of the dress, dusting the floor. A mid-slit, cut diagonally in the front, revealed a bare leg. Her hair was pulled up in a slick topknot with bangs stopping just at the start of her cheekbones. She wore mascara and red lipstick only. He supposed it was only fair to forgive her for making him wait.

"Leave us," Byakuya told his servants. "Collect us once everything is ready."

Sakura smiled and approached him smoothly, curves flowing like water, never losing his attention. Unspoken hints between them had surfaced here and there since he apologized, but he brushed them off quickly each time. However, he couldn't deny the thoughts of her that visited him each night; her skin against his own, undoing her little by little. Things had changed and marriage was no longer make-believe. He finally ended the battle with the voice inside himself saying he couldn't move forward, and embraced the opposite quietly. Sakura made it easier each day with her laughter, gentleness, and sometimes, insufferable stubbornness. He wanted the things he'd discarded again, and he wanted them with her.

When she thought of him as her husband and not just the boy she adored, it felt right.  _Almost too right._

" _Captain, he's your fiancé! There's no reason to dismiss how you feel," Rangiku reiterated over drinks._

" _But, Rangiku, it isn't proper. We're not married yet. It's just that after we sparred and tended to each other's wounds, I—I don't know. And then he gave me this ring, and—" Sakura stopped. "It just… seemed like something was going to happen."_

_Rangiku asked why nothing happened, and Sakura explained that Rukia and Ichigo had come to voice their congratulations._

" _Oh, damn!" the lieutenant leaned back in her bar stool. "I'm really going to have to talk to those two about their shitty timing. Captain Kuchiki probably would have taken you right there in your office, and this conversation of ours would be a lot juicier."_

_Sakura went wide-eyed, arrested by more visuals than she could keep up with. The thoughts made her ankles go numb, and she wondered what it'd feel like; being at his mercy._

" _Rangiku! Stop it!" she righted herself. "We're not married yet."_

" _Captain," she said, taking Sakura's hand. "It's okay. Let yourself feel happy about having him back in your life and becoming his wife. Don't waste time thinking you should feel some other way. Let this be a good thing for the both of you."_

Sakura took a deep breath, and listened to Rangiku's advice replay in her head. Byakuya spoke again.

"You're developing a knack for making me wait. It didn't seem like you were coming."

"I beg your pardon,  _Lord Byakuya_ , but your invitation only came a few hours ago and I had other matters to attend to. Consider yourself lucky that I'm even here," she scoffed.

"Hm," he closed his eyes. "That mouth of yours has not changed."

"I am hungry," she groaned a little, ignoring what he said. "You promised me a meal, remember? What are we having?"

"They will be ready for us soon, and I will allow the cook to explain. Apparently, he has outdone himself," he answered. "You're taller."

She flashed a grin and looked down at herself. His eyes followed. She wore high, black heels with a strappy pattern that stopped at her ankles.

"I see," he noted.

He liked seeing her this way, masterfully adorned and a little coy. She'd asked her ladies to select something appropriate for an evening spent in a beautiful garden, but soon regretted the request. They squeezed her in and out of dozens of outfits and insisted on heels of all footwear, pointing out that she wasn't having a night out with  _just_ anyone. Despite their improper motivation behind the outfit, her maidens managed to style what she considered to be an unforgettable look. The least Byakuya could do was compliment it.

"Well," she put her hands on her hips. "How do I look?"

He didn't know how to answer her. His assessment couldn't be summarized in simple terms. Her movements were poetic, the fit and color combination of her clothing like artwork, and there weren't words enough to tell her exactly what he thought. He caught sight of the engagement ring resting on her finger, and her nails, painted black. She was all clean lines and dark mystery. Seeing her slip in and out of her authority as a captain, and status as a noblewoman intrigued him, but seeing her dressed so impeccably gave him a new feeling. She smelled sweet and he tried again to dismiss the aching desire to embrace her. He maintained his resolve though his efforts were of no use as she moved in suddenly, not seeming to care how close they were.

She waited for him to answer, but he just looked at her with a blank face. He'd given some indication, however minimal, that what she wore was interesting at the least, but now, he'd returned to the demeanor he kept on autopilot. She sighed, thinking it was for the best.  _It is for the best, Sakura. Banish such thoughts. The two of you have only barely reconciled after fifty years apart._

"My Lord, my Lady," one of the servants called. "Dinner is served."

Byakuya turned his head absently, and Sakura grabbed his arm.

"Come on," she said, smiling. "Aren't you hungry?"

After dinner, he led her to the entrance outside of the fourteenth sacred garden located south of the main house. He'd worried about her clothing and shoes getting in the way of the long walk, but she assured him she was fine, and he wouldn't have it any other way because he found it difficult not to stare at her. He stopped and glanced at the gatekeeper's office nestled between two trees and pondered how best to surprise her with what he'd orchestrated beyond the gate. She followed his line of sight and offered a friendly wave to the guard who smiled. The temperature had dropped quite a bit and the wind picked up. Leaves colored by a premature autumn skittishly moved at her feet, and the crisp air tickled her nose and throat. She rubbed her arms for warmth and Byakuya threw his  _haori_  over her shoulders.

"I'm alright," she told him.

He shook his head and signaled for the guard to open the gate. He put his hands on her shoulders, positioning himself behind her.

"Close your eyes."

She obeyed and let him guide her inside. The gate creaked, opening slowly and she counted the steps they took. After a few minutes, he released her, and she sensed him come to her side.

"Open your eyes."

As far as her eyes could see were beds of white flowers, and a water fountain illuminated by colorful lights. Water sprang up in many different patterns and she was awestruck by the scene. She managed a hitched breath and Byakuya knew he'd always remember her that way. She took a couple of steps towards the fountain and a firefly pursued her, zipping around in circles. She laughed and it was like their childhood again, seeing her so enraptured by the beauty of nature and he by the beauty of her.

"Byakuya, this is amazing! I've never seen anything so magnificent in my life."

She reached out for the firefly that only gave her a little bit more of its time before scurrying away. The fountain sprayed a new pattern and the lights around it faded from orange to red. She sat down at a bench and he joined her.

"I am glad you like it," he said.

They sat together listening to the water and the creeping things of the night. He explained that there were many other touches he'd added to the property and she voiced her excitement about seeing them. She reached to brush the bangs from her eyes, and he extended his hand to help.

"Sakura, thank you for coming."

Her smile warmed him completely. They stood up, venturing out to wherever the spirit of the moment led them. Soon enough, she'd move in and he could alter other things to her liking and make the transition a good one for her. She was anxious about leaving her father and the prospect of too many changes to keep track of, but in that moment, existing with him in a garden of white flowers, hearing the spray and splash of the fountain, and only the moon and stars as their witness, she couldn't help feeling the cogs of fate turn for the two of them. They returned to the main entrance and she thanked the servants for all their work and doting.

"I shall never forget this, Byakuya," she said, handing his robe back to him.

With that, the evening was a success in his eyes. Silence, as it seemed to enjoy doing, fell upon them, but her happiness was apparent. He reached for her, pulling her close to him for a time until she inched back to look at him.

"By the way," he mentioned. "You look exquisite."

Her eyes crinkled at first, then she sucked her teeth thinking  _of course_. It was completely like him to postpone his answer until just the right moment.

"How nice of you to say," her voice dripped sarcasm and perhaps, a little pride.

He shook his head, and brought her back in, pressing his lips to the top of her head in not quite a kiss, but in a way that she didn't want to end.

"Come. I'll accompany you to the Tsukōji Manor," he offered.

She shook her head and he released her.

"No need. I can manage. Do not start thinking I'm some helpless princess. I can take care of myself."

"Sakura—"

"I will be just fine."

He conceded. It would be difficult adjusting to being the husband of a fellow captain, but Sakura was more than ready to push him into getting used to it.

"Thank you again, Byakuya. Until tomorrow then. Farewell."

She disappeared into the distance, and he drawled out a contented sigh. She didn't understand. There was no need to thank him since without her presence, none of what he'd planned held any meaning.

Sakura stopped to breathe. Everything was spinning and all her thoughts ran laps in her mind. Byakuya was going to be the death of her if she didn't watch herself. She was such a silly schoolgirl, but no woman in the  _Seireitei_  would blame her. A dying part of her wanted to resist, to make it difficult for him with a little passive defiance. He was used to getting what he wanted, and she felt she made it easy for him. However, that part of her had lost the power in its voice. Overriding her resurrected feelings with pride was useless. If he wanted her, she wouldn't deny him.

It was like the day they met. She'd fussed with her father the entire ride to the Kuchiki manor. There were no girls there to play with, just a boy. She was sick and tired of boys. Five brothers were plenty, but when she exited the carriage and set her eyes on a boy just a few inches taller than she, and looking every bit like the man beside him, she no longer cared about the girlfriends that left her behind for a tea party. His eyes and smile were gentle at first, but his father commented about him being unable to catch Lady Yoruichi Shihōin, and a scowl as dark as the depths of hell twisted his face.

" _Never mind about that," Ginrei interrupted. "Byakuya, meet Sakura Tsukōji."_

And the rest was history, and then fifty years of confusion and silent prayers, and a proposal that took her by surprise, and a night underneath countless stars that still had her heart pounding like a drum.

"Byakuya."

She patted her cheeks to muster her composure and started back on her course towards home. A spiky object flew at her from a direction she didn't know, and she jerked back.

"Who's there?" she called out.

She listened for any sound or movement and realized that someone was there, but their  _reiatsu_ was completely masked. A fist came at her, grazing her jawline and unable to do additional damage due to her reflexes. She moved several feet away from the point at which she'd been attacked. She backed up, crashing into the enemy's cold body. She turned into a roundhouse kick but connected with nothing. Laughter echoed in the landscape and she couldn't hone in on the direction of origin.

"You must feel useless without your  _zanpakutō_ ," the voice taunted.

"Who said I'm without it?"

She quickly focused her energy and manifested  _Kanagaki's_ blade in her hand. The man grabbed her free hand and dragged her forward. He wore a black cloak, and she was unable to see his face. He pulled at her arm, pushing her long sleeves out of the way, and she slashed at him, finally pulling away.

"There's no hope for you,  _princess,_ " he said.

Before she could react to his words, the spikes from before came shooting out of his mouth, and she was preoccupied with dodging them.

"You're a hollow, aren't you?"

Silvery-white teeth shining against the dark clothing he wore were all she could make out.

"An Arrancar to be exact. Lord Aizen says hello," the man laughed, and unsheathed a sword.

It was a  _zanpakutō_. Not allowing the questions of why or how to damage her concentration, she released her  _shikai_.

" _Bring all things into your domain, Kanagaki!"_

The man fled, his laughter ringing in her ears, and she was unable to pick up on the direction he left in. She tried to find his  _reiatsu,_  but it was useless. Emitting a fraction of her own spiritual pressure, she ripped off her sleeves and black ink seeped from her fingertips. She drew the binding spell's markings on her arms.

" _Black and white net_ ,  _twenty-two bridges, sixty-six crowns and belts. Footprints, distant thunder, sharp peak, engulfing land hidden in the night. Sea of clouds, blue line. Form a circle and fly through the heavens. Bakudō 77; Tenteikūra!"_

Byakuya knocked over his cup of tea, earning Ichigo and Rukia's concern. Ichigo jumped from his chair.

"What is that? This is just like – " Ichigo recognized the effect of the spell.

"Quiet," Byakuya demanded.

"Captains, vice-captains, and deputy  _shinigami_ , Ichigo Kurosaki, this is Captain Tsukōji. I've been attacked outside the historical marker of the Four Great Noble Families by an unidentified assailant connected to Sōsuke Aizen."

Byakuya got up to retrieve  _Senbonzakura_  as Ichigo explained the message to Rukia.

"The enemy called itself an Arrancar," she continued. "And is like a hollow yet different. I could not sense any  _reiatsu_  from it whatsoever. I am not sure how that's possible, but I estimate its power to be at the level of a fifth or sixth seat."

Byakuya listened and his blood boiled, but he kept calm, and waited for her to finish.

"Vice-captains along with Ichigo Kurosaki, lead a team to pursue this arrancar. You may not have much luck finding it but we need to be on patrol to make sure that it doesn't harm anyone. If you encounter the enemy, take him alive. If you must, terminate him. Captains, please convene at the First to be briefed further. That is all."

"I'm going," Byakuya announced. "Rukia, you and Ichigo leave immediately and rendezvous with Renji. Find who did this."

Sakura recalled the arrancar's words trying to figure out what he could have been talking about. Nothing made any sense. There was no record of a  _Senkaimon_  opening. And she couldn't think of an answer for a hollow having a  _zanpakutō_.

"Captain!"

Ayano and a few of her officers ran towards her, and she took in a deep breath. She looked awful, she thought, with her tattered clothing and markings from  _tenteikūra_  up and down her arms. Before she addressed her lieutenant, Byakuya arrived. She went numb from the look on his face.

"I ordered you to rally a team and look for the enemy, Ayano," she said, watching Byakuya surveil the area.

"But, Captain, we wanted to make sure you were okay," her third seat protested.

"As you can see, I'm fine. I said the enemy is at the level of a fifth or sixth seat so there is nothing for you to worry about now please move out and help everyone else."

They left, and she felt Byakuya's gaze crushing her.

"Forgive my appearance," she laughed. "We should be on our way to the First."

She started to leave and he grabbed her arm with a bit of firmness to his touch. She turned to face him, and he sighed.

"I told you to let me escort you home," his voice was laced with something she wasn't fond of.

She hated feeling underestimated, like her ability to take care of herself was doubted, and a part of her knew that Byakuya meant well. It was who he was. If he valued something, he'd do anything to protect it, but she hadn't come this far to be protected by him.

"What would you have done that I couldn't?" she questioned. "Like I said, he could not be sensed."

"That is true. However, this is not a criticism of how you handled the situation. Two is simply better than one."

He didn't want to argue with her. Honestly, given her report on the matter, she fared as best as any of them could. Knowing she was alright was enough for the time being. There was no point in trying to stop him from worrying or get in the way of his concern for her so she settled on accepting it.

"You'll have to do better than that, Byakuya," she smiled. "You'd never take part in a tag team. Anyway, let's go. Everyone should be ready to meet now."

They arrived at the First, and received puzzling looks from the other captains, and Sakura knew her appearance was to blame. Captain Yamamoto seemed surprised for only a second, and asked her to speak.

"This arrancar is basically a type of hollow with a  _zanpakutō_  and a human form. I'm still trying to figure out how he's able to completely suppress his spiritual pressure, as well as how he even got into the Soul Society, but I suppose if Kisuke Urahara can accomplish such things, Aizen, having this  _Hōgyoku_ of his can manage much the same."

"Is there anything else that you think we should know?" the old man asked.

"I am bothered by the fact that I was clearly targeted by this assailant. If he could move about without being detected, he could have given this message to anyone. I refuse to believe that it was a random attack," she said.

Byakuya arrived at the same conclusion, trying to think of the reason.

"What better way to send a message than attacking our strategist?" Shunsui offered.

"Aizen knows Captain Tsukōji," Captain Unohana answered. "Outside of the element of surprise, I'm sure he feels that he can withstand anything she comes up with. He's  _that_  full of himself. On top of that, she said this arrancar's abilities were no more than a fifth seat's. It's not like he could have killed her."

Sakura nodded, and they were back at the beginning of their guessing game. She knew Aizen enjoyed it. It was like he was in the walls listening to them, relishing how they scrambled.

"I think Kyōraku is right," Soi Fon said. "There are so many unanswered questions. What exactly is an arrancar? What is the extent of its abilities? How did this guy get into the  _Seireitei_  without our knowledge? All these questions put us off. No matter how powerful Aizen thinks he is, he gets off on his opponents not knowing their left from their right."

It made sense. Aizen's entire basis was hypnosis and confusion.

"At any rate, I believe the message has been sent and the enemy has slithered back to wherever Aizen is," the head captain concluded. "Call off the search parties, and go home, everyone. We will proceed business as usual. Captain Kurotsuchi, review all surveillance. I expect a full report tomorrow. That is all."

Byakuya and Sakura made it to the Tsukōji manor. She clutched her chin, and he knew she still mulled over the details of the attack.

"You should get some rest. It has been a long day," Byakuya said.

"Every leader in the  _Gotei_  will be at our engagement party on Saturday. What if there is an attack? He may try wiping us out in one go."

Byakuya had thought of it but Captain Soi Fon's comment about Aizen's style and preference made him reconsider. He explained his belief that Aizen had a specific goal in mind; to leave them hopeless.

"I do not believe he is preparing an army to attack us at a party, Sakura."

She nodded, still knowing she had to entertain every possibility. But she couldn't beat it to death. Aizen wanted to drive home just how far ahead of any of their plans he was, but something still bothered her.

" _There's no hope for you, princess."_

She couldn't explain it, but something about how the arrancar said it just didn't sit well.


End file.
